


Always Gold

by immunitywolf



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 07:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immunitywolf/pseuds/immunitywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A somewhat modern story about the gang's life after the events of The Outsiders. In a world of friendship, pain, and simply finding a reason to keep fighting, Ponyboy Curtis learns how to deal with the aftermath of the death of his friends. Three years later and the Curtis brothers have significantly changed, but Ponyboy still fails to believe that he'll ever fully move on with his life. Enrolling in community college is only the first step in this journey. When he gets in some trouble at a bar and at a celebratory track party all in the same week, Ponyboy must rely on his friends and the advice from his brothers in order to bounce back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Gold

It starts with a boy. Now a freshman in college, this boy has lost more than any seventeen year old should ever have to lose. Parents in a car wreck. Best friend in a church fire. Buddy in a police shooting. All taken from him within a year. But most importantly, this boy lost his innocence. It was flushed down the drain along with his motivation to survive. Three years later, he learns to manage his sadness; he can tie it up and keep it silent for periods at a time. But it’s still there. Hiding under his skin, clawing at his insides, screaming to be noticed. But, under his skin he’s still human. Deep within him, there is a human. Despite everything he has been through, he will always be human.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

It is a crisp fall morning; Ponyboy Curtis sits alone on the front porch of his house and he writes.

_You learn how to fight, one way or another. Or you disappear. I know how to fight. Actually, I’m real good at it by now. But I like to disappear._

_Growing up in our neighborhood, you learn at a young age what you need to do in order to survive. Smoking cigarettes at 10, fighting in rumbles at 12, our gang of greasers have stuck together through it all. It all started with my freshman year theme in high school. I’ve always been into reading, so it wasn’t really surprising when I found myself writing sometimes. But when I sat down to write that English theme for Mr. Syme, that’s when I noticed how much I actually loved it. I’m always reading or writing, I guess it’s because I like to pretend I’m someone else._

_Writing that paper was the best and worst thing I’ve ever done. Darry would probably say the worst thing I’ve done is walk places alone – which I still do by the way, I just don’t like to bother the other guys by asking for a babysitter. But Darry’s never read my theme; I won’t let him. Not even Sodapop. They won’t be able to handle it, I know it. I don’t even know how I finished that thing; it was like I started it and immediately was set to auto-pilot. The words just spilled out of me. Still, it felt good to write it down, that way I can always remember how much Johnny was a part of my life. And how much he affected me. The world could learn a lot from Johnny Cade._

As he finishes the last sentence, Ponyboy stares at the sky and starts drumming his pencil on the porch railing. Closing his notebook, he decides he can’t write anymore and walks inside to put his journal away.

Ever since he got sick after Dallas was shot, Darry had insisted that he keep a journal. His doctor had strongly encouraged a therapist, but with Ponyboy’s hospital bills piling up, the Curtis family just simply couldn’t afford it. Soda stood behind Darry about his decision because when it came to Ponyboy’s mental health, he absolutely wanted the best for him. And if the best for him was to write about his feelings every once in a while, so be it.

After a few months, it just became a habit for him. Every morning, or every night, he would write in his journal. Sometimes describing his day. Sometimes retelling the fight he almost got into at school that day. Sometimes about his parents. Some days, like today, he writes about Johnny. He thinks about him a lot; leaving high school makes him reminiscent of what exactly he’s leaving behind him. Those years are past him now, nothing but memories. Most days, Ponyboy writes about his family. His friends. And that’s what means the most to him.

Ponyboy and his gang have gotten stronger over the years despite the fact they’re down to five. When he went back to school for his sophomore year, a lot of the greasers would come up to him and try to talk about the events of the last spring. Most of them were nice enough about it, but Two-Bit and Steve started to follow him around, and he suddenly didn’t get many chances to talk to anyone anymore.

Darry and Soda had pulled Steve and Two-Bit aside one night at the Curtis house. It was a few weeks before the beginning of school, so the older brothers wanted to talk to them about keeping an eye on Ponyboy in between classes.

Steve, of course, had rolled his eyes and put up a fuss. “The kid’s not a baby, Darry. He can look out for himself,” he argued. But Darry stood up straight, put on his best scowl, crossed his overly muscular arms, and suddenly Steve seemed a lot more interested in walking Ponyboy to class.

Two-Bit didn’t argue like Steve had, he was more than willing to help Ponyboy adjust. He still wasn’t completely past feeling guilty for Ponyboy getting sick in the first place, so he was looking for any reason to make it up to Darry. It wasn’t like Darry or Soda ever held Two-Bit responsible, but they were glad to hear about his enthusiasm to look out for their younger brother. Ponyboy was oblivious, at least at that point, as to what was happening. But as soon as the first day of school rolled around, it was obvious what his older brothers had put his friends up to. He was pretty annoyed within the first couple of weeks, and even tried to ditch them a few times. Once October came around, he had decided to talk to Sodapop about it.

“Come on, Soda,” Ponyboy pleaded. “You guys gotta quit treatin’ me like I’m five. I can fight fine if I need to. Plus, the Socs are still kinda scared of me since most of them still think I killed Bob and everything.”

Soda shook his head and stared at Ponyboy. He was shocked that he had just stated that so bluntly.  Letting out a heavy sigh, Soda grabbed his younger brother’s arms strongly, demanding his attention. “Pony, listen to me. I don’t care if that’s true or not. I don’t care what the Socs think. What I care about is you getting jumped again. I know you think you can handle things on your own but you can’t.”

“There ain’t nothing wrong with that, kiddo,” Soda rushed to say because of the scowl he had just received from Ponyboy. “It’s okay to need help from us sometimes. I mean come on, man. That’s kinda what we’re here for. Just please go easy on Steve and Two-Bit. They’re only trying to make sure there’s no trouble.”

Deciding to give in, Ponyboy slumped his shoulders and sighed. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me when all you hear from Steve is how annoying I am.” He knew Steve would still do it, because Soda told him to. But he also knew he would never hear the end of it.

After his talk with Soda, Ponyboy realized how worked up his brothers seemed to be getting over him. He cared about what Darry thought too; after all, they were keeping up with their deal to Soda on not fighting as much. But if letting himself get practically escorted to class would ease Soda’s mind, he’d be more than happy to do it. He would do anything to see the loopy grin his brother was now wearing.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

That was two years ago. Two years is a long time. Long enough for Darry to get promoted, and for Soda to land the position of manager at the DX. Long enough for Two-Bit to _finally_ graduate high school, Steve following in his lead. Two years and Ponyboy Curtis made it out of the school he loved so much. It turned out that Darry constantly being on his case about his homework resulted in Ponyboy excelling in every class he took that year. Steve and Two-Bit continued to walk around the halls with him, but towards the end of his second year of high school, the Socs seemed to forget all about Ponyboy Curtis.

He got a job at the town library that summer to save up some money. Working when he could, playing football with the guys most days, and reading in between, Ponyboy found himself staring at his junior year of high school before he knew it. He eased into the school year and found himself bored with how easy his classes were. On top of that, fights between greasers and Socs were at an all-time low. Weeks went by where Ponyboy wouldn’t see one fight. They still happened, sure. People fight. It happens. But it was nothing like the social divide he knew only two years ago. He made it to the top five in his class by the middle of the year, still only sixteen years old. Over winter break, his principal contacted Darry and suggested that Ponyboy graduate one year early.

Darry and Soda couldn’t have been more proud. Ponyboy stood shyly on that stage that spring, receiving his diploma, at just sixteen years old. Still a baby in his brothers’ eyes, still too young to let go into the world. But they knew what was coming, and they had to prepare themselves. Ponyboy was too smart not to go to college.

He turned seventeen that July. Darry had enrolled him in the community college on the other side of town, which Ponyboy surprisingly agreed to whole-heartedly.

“You know that’s alright with me, Dar. I just can’t believe you let me graduate early. I’m happy enough going to college in the first place.” Ponyboy was still in shock, and he remembered some of the last words his best friend said. _Sixteen years ain’t long enough, Johnny? If only you could see me now; I hope I make you proud._

Two months ago, Ponyboy started classes. Even though he’s taking general classes, he managed to schedule two English courses, and he loves them the most. But of course, something has to go wrong. In this case, it’s the students in his classes. He kind of expected it – he doesn’t fit in with his classmates since he’s more than a few years younger than most of them. Some days, he finds himself getting shoved into the wall on his way out of class. Other days, it’s in the bathroom, cornered by the same guy – a jock called Parker – who throws pencils at him during his English class. They constantly mess with him; he does his best to not let it bother him.

It’s now the middle of November, leaves are changing, outside air is chilling, and time is draining. Finals are coming up and Ponyboy is starting to get overwhelmed with his workload. After he opens the front door, he’s met with the circus he was trying to avoid in the first place. Steve and Two-Bit are in the same place they were before – on the floor wrestling each other. Darry is sitting in his recliner drinking coffee and attentively reading the newspaper, while Soda is hopping around the kitchen making chocolate cake. Ponyboy carefully maneuvers around Steve and Two-Bit and heads for his room to put his journal away. But before he can even get by the living room, Darry sticks his hand out before Ponyboy can pass.

“Ponyboy, you got homework to do today?” Ponyboy cringes. He’s a college student and his older brother still nags him about his schoolwork.

“Come on Darry, it’s Saturday, can’t I go to the movies or something?”

“Alright, little man, how about this,” Darry says slowly. “If you finish your homework by tonight, I’ll go to the movies with you tomorrow after I get out of work. I would tonight but I’m working late.”

Darry smiles and drops his hand blocking Ponyboy, letting him pass. He slumps his shoulders, starts towards his room, and sighs, “Sure.”

To be fair, he’s not sure how long his homework will take. It certainly wouldn’t take all day, but he knows that Darry will be too worn out to do anything when he gets home from work. He always is. He tries not to get his hopes up, but maybe he can convince Soda or Two-Bit to go with him instead.

Ponyboy tosses his notebook back in his desk drawer and walks back into the kitchen.

Steve and Two-Bit stop wrestling – Steve hollering in his victory. He walks over to Darry and smirks, “Kid don’t need to do his homework, Darry. You should see the classes he takes.”

Steve is taking a few courses at the same community college Ponyboy goes to, working as much as he can in between. Since his parents aren’t much help financially, Steve is on his own for paying for classes. One advantage of having your best friend as your manager is getting flexible hours. Soda is proud that Steve decided to take college classes, so he works with him and gives him the best hours he could hope for. In return, Soda makes Steve check on Ponyboy in between his classes sometimes.

Ponyboy rolls his eyes in slight annoyance. But Darry doesn’t let Steve get any further. Instead, he stands up from his chair, a rigid brick wall in front of his friend. He says, “Is that right?”

Steve gets the hint, shifts his shoulders in indifference, and backs away from Darry, sidestepping into the kitchen. He nudges Soda and mumbles, “Ya think he’ll ever learn how to take a joke?”

“Ya want some company with your homework, kiddo?” Soda smiles sympathetically at his younger brother. “I can’t promise I’ll be any help though,” he laughs.

Ponyboy cracks a smile. Soda is smarter than he gives himself credit for, but having him around when he’s trying to get work done is near impossible.

“That’s okay. I’ll go to the library and try to finish up real quick. Maybe after we could play football or something? It’s still not that cold yet, it’d be nice to be outside while we still can.” After his journal entry from the morning, Ponyboy wants to keep busy. He doesn’t want to stay still for too long, he’ll start to think too much.

“Sure, I don’t have to go in to work today. One of the perks of being manager.” Soda beams and slaps his little brother on the back. “Stevie here does though.”

Steve turns to scowl at his friend. “Yeah yeah, we can’t all be a big shot like you.”

Raising his eyebrows, Soda says, “Well why don’t you head on in early? That way we can all hang out later. It is the weekend, after all.” He receives a disapproving look from Darry on that last bit, but just wiggles his eyebrows at his older brother. Darry cracks a smile, he always does; he can never take Soda too seriously.

“Yeah alright, buddy. See y’all later then,” Steve announces to the room. He punches Soda on the shoulder and playfully nudges Ponyboy out of his way before he heads out of the Curtis’ house. Two years ago, Steve wouldn’t have even bothered to acknowledge Ponyboy. He doesn’t know how it happened, or why – maybe because he’s a seventeen year old college freshmen – but Ponyboy notices Steve beginning to treat him more than just Soda’s kid brother.

Two-Bit finishes the beer he’s drinking and walks over to Ponyboy. “Come on, kid, let’s blow this joint. I’ll give you a ride to the library.”

“I appreciate it, Two-Bit. Don’t worry about picking him up later; I’m about to head out to do some grocery shopping and a few other errands, I can swing by campus on my way back.” Darry puts his coffee mug in the sink and walks over to where Ponyboy is. He lowers his voice and says, “Thanks for listening, Pony. It’s just that I know you got finals comin’ up and I want you to stay on track. You’ve been making real good grades recently; keep it up, kiddo.” Darry ruffles his brother’s hair and goes off to his room to find his keys.

“Hey, Dar!” Soda shouts after him, “Can I come? If everybody else is leavin’ I don’t wanna be here by myself.”

“Yeah sure, little buddy, go find your shoes.”

In the kitchen, Ponyboy and Two-Bit pile the dirty dishes from breakfast in the sink. “Thanks for wanting to take me Two-Bit. I wasn’t gonna ask.”

“Aw shoot kid, ain’t a big deal since I’m off today. I’m bored of just sitting around anyways. It’ll give me something to do. Hey, maybe I’ll look into enrolling in a few classes myself,” he says with a chuckle.

“Yeah right,” Ponyboy snorted. “You’re lucky you even have a job. I thought I’d never see the day.” Two-Bit had recently gotten hired at the bar in the shady side of town. He was right, his mother almost died of shock when he told her.

“Alright Ponyboy, we’re heading out. We’ll stop by on our way home from the store to see if you’re ready to head back.” Ponyboy nods as Darry makes his way towards the front door.

“See ya later, Pony!” Soda yells as he darts past Darry, hopping onto the front porch as he tries to shove his last shoe on his foot. Ponyboy laughs as he almost falls down the steps. He will never understand his brother’s hatred towards shoes. Ever since being in the hospital, Ponyboy forgets things sometimes – mostly to put on his shoes. But his brother is different, he doesn’t only forget them, he just plain out hates them. Soda will get home from work and already have one shoe off, throwing them into his room in a display of his disgust. Ponyboy may never understand why – but it’s what makes Soda so different than everybody else.

Ponyboy moves to his bedroom to gather up his homework for the weekend and shoves it into his bookbag. Most of his books are thrown across the room. Some of them opened, and flipped over to save the page he stopped reading on. Some are falling apart at the spine. Others are gathering dust under his bed, read once and tossed away in disinterest. But on his desk are his school books. For some reason, he manages to keep them neatly piled and accounted for; it makes it easier for him to get his homework done on time.

He still shares a bed with Soda. No matter how much time gets between him and the death of Johnny and Dally, his nightmares never stop. They’re worse some nights, and some nights he doesn’t even have them. Yet they’re regular enough to keep Soda and Darry on their toes. He comes home pretty late most nights, either hitching a ride from Two-Bit, Steve, or his track buddies. After spending almost all of his free time during the week in the campus library, he comes home in a huff. Ponyboy always accidentally wakes Soda up, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

One morning last week, Steve walked in to wake Soda up for work. Seeing Ponyboy nestled under Soda’s arm, he later teased him about being a college student and still needing to sleep with his big brother. Darry had heard what he said. And needless to say, Steve avoided the Curtis house for a few days.

Ponyboy emerges into the living room, where Two-Bit is turning off the television. Turning around to face his friend, he says, “And then there were two. Ya ready to go?”

“Yup, all set to go fry my brain some more,” Ponyboy says with a fake smile. “Let’s get out of here.”

Two-Bit and Ponyboy make their way outside and into Two-Bit’s run-down car. It’s a miracle it hasn’t died by now, considering how many times the breaks have failed. Starting the car, Two-Bit pulls out from the curb and asks Ponyboy how he likes college.

“It’s nice enough. The campus is real big, so it’s nice to just walk around sometimes. And my classes are okay, I guess,” he says with a shrug.

“Hey, don’t sound too excited there, ya might pull something. What’s the matter with them?”

Ponyboy fumbles with the zipper on his bookbag. “Nothing really, it’s just some kids kind of rag on me for being so young. Nothing I can’t handle though.”

“Kids are messing with you? Like how, Pony? Are they picking fights with you?” Two-Bit glances over at his friend, who is now regretting opening his mouth.

“Two-Bit, I said I could handle it, calm down. It’s just normal teenage stuff, nothing to worry about it. And you can save your breath tellin’ Darry or Soda. They’ve been working too much; I don’t wanna add to their worries.”

“As soon as these kids try and fight you, you better believe I’m telling your big brothers. I learned my lesson, kid.”

The community college campus is only fifteen minutes away, which is convenient enough for Soda to come by and visit when he gets time off from work. Sometimes he’ll wait in the library after his shift at the DX, surprising Ponyboy and taking him home after he finishes his homework. Those are the nights Ponyboy loves; they don’t happen enough.

By the time Two-Bit pulls into the parking lot in front of the library, it’s just past ten.

“Hey, what do you say I stick around for a little bit? I promise I won’t distract you, I’ll be on my best behavior,” Two-Bit says with what he thinks is his innocent face.

“Fine, but the second you make me look away from my homework, I’m kicking you out. Darry won’t care that you’re the reason, he’ll holler at me if I don’t finish my work today.”

“Deal.”

Once inside, Ponyboy walks over to his favorite table in the corner of the library, books surrounding him on every shelf. Two-Bit wanders off to explore for himself while Ponyboy drops his bookbag in the middle of the table and sits down. Pulling out his history book, he turns to the chapter he’s supposed to read for his class on Monday, uncaps his pen, and begins reading. Two-Bit is nowhere to be seen.

Five minutes later, Ponyboy spots his friend. He looks up from behind his book and sees Two-Bit doing cartwheels across the far side of the library. He recognizes the gymnastic routines that Darry taught them all those years ago. Two-Bit is climbing on tables, jumping over bookshelves, and knocking over a bunch of books in the process. Luckily, the library isn’t too crowded, since it’s a Saturday morning. The librarians are stocking shelves on the far side of the library, and the few students that are there seem too engrossed in their studies to acknowledge his existence.

Two-Bit hops over to Ponyboy’s table and drops down in the seat beside him with a thump.

“What’d ya think of that? Pretty impressive if I do say so myself. After all these years and I still got it.”

Ponyboy defiantly goes back to reading, hiding his face behind his book. “It was okay,” he says with a shrug. He tries to keep reading, but a small smile creeps onto his face, and he feels his sadness from the morning dissolve. Spend a day with Two-Bit Mathews and it’s bound to happen.

They sit at the table like that for twenty minutes. Ponyboy reading, and talking to Two-Bit in between pages. It’s not the most efficient way to finish his homework, but since his mood is better, he figures he would try to keep his friend occupied.

“Alright, kid, I’m bored,” Two-Bit says as he jumps up from his seat. “I’ll let you finish your homework, Darry and Soda should be here soon.”

“Thank God, your foot tapping was driving me up the wall. Not even thirty minutes here and you’re already bored? Man, you would never survive in college,” Ponyboy jokes. “Nah, it’s alright Two-Bit, thanks for giving me a ride. I’ll see you at our house later. Sounded like Soda wanted to go out or something. You got plans tonight?”

“Nope, my night is all free. Steve was thinking about going bar hopping. Superman probably won’t want you to come but we’ll work our magic on him,” he says with a crooked grin.

“What he won’t know won’t hurt him,” Ponyboy replies. Since Darry is going into work, maybe he can tag along with the boys after he leaves.

Two-Bit pulls his keys from his pockets. “Yeah, well, we’ll see. See ya later, Pony.”

Through the windows in the library, Ponyboy sees his friend pull out of the parking lot. He had his fun, now it’s time to really crack down.

After finishing the chapters he has to read for his history class, Ponyboy works his way through most of his English paper, completes his algebra take-home exam, and starts the novel he has to read for his other English class. He’s never heard of the book before, but he finds himself enjoying it. Next time he looks up, he stares at the clock. One-thirteen. Ponyboy read for almost three hours straight. Taken aback, he looks at his book to see how far he read, and realizes that he’s read half of the book already. Enjoying reading really does come in handy for him; if he likes the book, he gives himself over to it. He goes away in his head, into the book. And that’s wherever he goes whenever he wants to get away from real life.

Darry walks through the door on the other side of the library, not even three minutes later with Soda in tow. Ponyboy smiles wildly and waves as they make their way over to his table.

Seeing his brother’s seemingly improved mood, Darry sighs in relief. He hates to constantly be on his case about his schoolwork, but he knows what Ponyboy is capable of. A seventeen year old college student isn’t something people see every day.

Soda, now ahead of Darry, lopes over to his brother’s table. “Hey Sodapop!” Ponyboy says as he punches his shoulder. They push each other around a bit before Darry walks up to the table.

Ponyboy turns away from Soda and says, “Hey, Dar. You’re missin’ the action,” and takes a playful punch to his oldest brother’s stomach. Darry, completely unaffected, smirks down at Ponyboy. “Watch yourself, little man, or I’ll leave you two here. How’s your homework coming?”

“Done. Only thing I didn’t finish was my book for English but that ain’t due for two weeks.”

“Good work. I thought Two-Bit would’ve distracted you too much. He ain’t around?”

Soda looks up from where he’s putting Ponyboy’s books back in his bag. “He didn’t stick around at all? I thought he was gonna keep you company since I couldn’t,” he says.

“Nah, don’t worry, I kicked him out. He gets annoying when he’s bored. Kept tapping his foot, it drove me nuts.”

His brothers nod in approval and help gather what is left of Ponyboy’s papers. Stuffing them in his bookbag, Soda catches a glimpse of the personal journal his brother keeps. In his hurry this morning, he must have grabbed it and shoved it into his bag without noticing. Ponyboy falters and grabs the notebook from Soda, turning it over in his hands. Out of embarrassment, he looks down at the ground, wishing his brothers would stop staring at him.

“You still keepin’ up with that, kiddo?” Darry asks cautiously.

After receiving a nod in response, Soda takes his little brother’s chin and raises it so he’s looking at him. “Don’t you do that. Don’t hide it. Nothing can touch you, you’re okay now.”

Ponyboy nods, fighting back the memories that are resurfacing. _Get tough and nothing can touch you._

Zipping up the bookbag, Darry hands it over and grabs Ponyboy’s arm. He looks up and is surprised to see an enormous amount of emotion crossing Darry’s normally icy eyes. All the emotions that he will never be able to put into words. But he’ll always be like that. Just like Ponyboy will always argue his feelings. He’s a fighter – until the end. And as for Soda, he’ll always wear his heart on his sleeve. All three of them so different – yet so compatible.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The drive home is painfully silent. Unspoken memories and emotions are hanging in the air. Once Darry pulls in front of their house, Soda gets out of the truck after his brother. Ponyboy grabs a few bags from the back of the truck from their errand run and is opening the gate when he hears Soda say, “Think you’re forgettin’ something, kiddo.”

He turns around and sees Soda pulling his bookbag from the floor of the truck. He’s not surprised; Darry always says he’d forget his head if it wasn’t screwed on. Ponyboy agrees.

As Ponyboy tries to grab his bookbag from his brother, Soda resists, pulling his brother towards him. He lowers his voice. “Buck up, kiddo, we’re going out tonight,” he says with a mischievous grin. Darry obliviously walks around the back of the truck carrying the rest of the bags. He sees the grins on his brothers’ faces and sighs. Leave it to Soda to fix everything.

The three brothers make their way onto their front porch. Hearing the telephone ringing, Darry quickens his pace only to be met with the sight of Steve answering the phone.

“‘Lo?” Steve says lazily. Catching Darry’s eyes, he smirks, “It’s for you.”

Darry grabs the phone from Steve’s outstretched hands and rolls his eyes.

“Hey Steve, you finished with work?” Ponyboy asks as he plops down on the floor and turns the television on.

“You bet, kid. Finished those cars in record time. Think my manager should give me a medal or somethin’,” he adds, receiving a snort from Soda in response.

Joining Soda in the kitchen, Ponyboy helps his brother put the groceries away. They’ve never had too much money, but since Darry and Soda have been working so much recently, they have a little more cash to spend. Ponyboy unloads the last bag and laughs. Three boxes of chocolate cake mix and two gallons of chocolate milk. They’ll be gone in a week.

“What’re you laughin’ at, it’s your turn for dinner.” Soda winks and nudges Ponyboy, grabbing the milk from him. “And while you’re at it, whip up one of those cakes too.”

“Oh, please. Like anybody wants you to make the cake, Soda,” Darry says sharply after hanging up the phone. “That was work; they need me to come in early to approve some assignments. Looks like I’m working overtime again.”

“Sorry, Darry,” Ponyboy says uncertainly. “Want me to cook you up somethin’ quick before you head out?”

Darry shakes his head. “That’s alright. I’ll stop somewhere on my way over.” He says as he huffs out of the kitchen.

Ponyboy, Soda, and Steve sit at the kitchen table playing cards. They say goodbye to Darry five minutes later, promising to be on their best behavior. Darry doesn’t believe them for a second when Soda insists that they’ll be staying in and watching a movie; he was a teenager not too long ago. All he asks is that if they do go out, that Ponyboy stay home.

“You’ve got finals, the last thing I need is you comin’ home drunk all the time. Just ‘cause you’re in college don’t mean the state’s backing off our case; you’re still underage. I just don’t want you screwing up all the hard work you’ve been putting in.”

Ponyboy huffs and nods slowly.

“Just make it till finals, Pony. Then you can have some fun, I promise,” Darry says as he grabs his keys from the counter. After he leaves, Ponyboy looks over at Soda, a playful grin spreading across his face. Soda hasn’t forgotten what he said to his younger brother earlier – but he didn’t think Darry would be so against Ponyboy going out.

Not wanting to upset him anymore for the day, Soda starts slowly, “Listen, kiddo, I didn’t think he would be so uptight. I figured since you finished your homework that he’d let you free.” Getting a defeated frown from Ponyboy, he continues, “But…..what Darry don’t know won’t hurt him.” _Where’s the fun in doing what you’re told anyways?_ Soda thinks to himself. He tries to be a role model for his younger brother, knowing how much he looks up to him. But sometimes it’s really amusing to do exactly what his older brother says not to. Now beaming, Ponyboy thinks back to what he told Two-Bit earlier in the library. It’s ridiculous how similar Soda and Ponyboy are – always attuned to each other.

“Thanks, Sodapop! Classes are stressin’ me out; I need to get out.”

Steve, who has been surprisingly quiet since before Darry left, chooses this time to kick the cards out of Soda’s socks. “Always the cheater, ain’t ya? I don’t even want you on my team tonight. What do ya say me and the kid against you and Two-Bit in a game of pool?”

“You got yourself a deal there, Stevie. Speaking of Two-Bit, give him a call; tell him to come over soon.”

Ruffling his brother’s hair, Soda gets up from the table and goes into the bathroom. Ponyboy hears the shower turn on and starts to make dinner. He wants to make something fast so he doesn’t have to feed Two-Bit too, so he decides on pasta. Steve gets off the phone a minute later, saying Two-Bit picked up an extra shift at the bar and that they should just meet him there. Nodding, Ponyboy gets three plates and a container for Darry out from the cabinets.

One hour, three meals, and an absurd amount of hair grease later, the boys leave the Curtis house and start walking to Two-Bit’s bar down the street. They always refer to it as that, acting like he owns the place. He’s only a bartender, but his boss couldn’t care less about keeping his business afloat, so Two-Bit practically is the manager. Steve came in one night last week and was able to get free beer all night long. Two-Bit didn’t complain once; he strangely enjoys watching his friends get plastered.

They walk for close to ten minutes, joking and laughing on the way. Ponyboy smiles sadly to himself. It feels too similar to when they walked over to the rumble before Johnny and Dally died. “ _Why do I have a bad feeling about this_?” he whispers, low enough so that Soda only hears vague muttering.

“What’s that?”

Pushing away his doubts, Ponyboy shakes his head and ensures his brother that it’s nothing. He’s been working his ass off. It’s time to get some reward – he deserves this.

They reach the bar shortly; opening the front door, they spot their friend turning the channel on the TV behind the counter. They look around and notice the place is overwhelmingly crowded, which means they’ll have no trouble getting more than a few free drinks out of Two-Bit.

“Well, would ya look at this? Three of the shadiest lookin’ hoods I’ve ever seen. What can I do for you fellas?” He drawls as his friends take seats facing him.

“Three beers if you please, kind sir,” Ponyboy says arrogantly. Two-Bit glances at Soda, as if silently asking if it’s okay that he let him drink. Soda sighs and nods his head, and Two-Bit disappears to the other side of the counter to fill three mugs of beer from the tap.

Things continue rather normally for about hour. The boys mainly just sit and talk with Two-Bit, waiting for him to go on break so they can play a game of pool. It’s starting to get later which means that more greasers will be coming in to get wasted and stoned. Since the bar is in such a bad area of town – even worse than the Curtis’ neighborhood – the greasers that are showing up are hardly the type of people they want to associate with. Sometimes Tim Shepard comes in to talk to Two-Bit, but tonight he doesn’t seem to be in attendance. Soda looks behind him and eyes the door cautiously, deciding to relocate.

Turning around to face his friends, he says, “Hey, Two-Bit, why don’t you take your break now?” Soda gestures over his shoulder with his thumb. Seeing what he’s referring to, he nods furiously and goes to clock out for thirty minutes.

Ponyboy gets down from his spot on the stool as his older brother grabs his shoulders from behind. “Come on, let’s go play some pool,” Soda says as he starts walking towards the pool table, never loosening his grip on his younger brother.

“Aw come on, ease up, Soda. Those hoods won’t just pick a fight with us out of nowhere. We ain’t doing a thing to them,” Ponyboy groans. He will admit they do look a little shady, but he’s just trying to have a good night out.

Steve pushes Soda away from Ponyboy playfully, towards the other side off the pool table. He says, “What’d I say? You’re stuck with Two-Bit. Rack ‘em up, buddy.” He’s trying to lighten the mood and get his friend to have a good time. He knows Ponyboy doesn’t need one more thing to worry about. His plan works because Soda lets out a chuckle and starts cracking his knuckles, smirking at Steve and Ponyboy.

Two-Bit walks over just in time for Ponyboy to break the rack. He sinks two of the striped balls, cheering and nudging Steve in the ribs playfully. Soda is the one who taught him how to play pool a year ago. His brother, being the nerd he is, quickly learned the game and now plays even better than Soda. “We’re in for it, ain’t we?” Two-Bit says to Soda, shaking his head.

“You got that right, gentlemen,” Ponyboy says with mock superiority. Soda shakes his head and breaks out in a wide grin. He can be bitter all he wants, but he’s glad his brother is having such a good time.

Three games, and more than a couple of drinks later, Soda puts his stick down on the pool table and starts to walk over to his younger brother. He was keeping an eye on how many drinks Two-Bit gives him, but in his efforts to win one of the past three games, he’s lost track. Soda peers around the table and sees at least twelve beer bottles littered on the ground. Between him and Steve, he’s almost positive that most of them are Ponyboy’s because of the way his brother is currently looking at him.

Ponyboy follows his brother’s lead and puts his stick down on the table, smiling enthusiastically at Soda. “Hey, don’t look at me like that; we creamed you fair and square. Not my fault you taught me how to play pool.” Ponyboy smirks.

The shady greasers they saw earlier start walking in their direction from the other side of the bar. Soda didn’t like the way they started staring at Ponyboy ten minutes ago. Hoping for the best, he grabs Steve’s arm and gives him a heads up. Steve goes off to get Two-Bit from behind the bar, getting as much back up as possible, should they need it. Ponyboy, oblivious to it all, notices the fire in his brother’s eyes and approaches him.

“What’s up, Sodapop? It really ain’t a big deal…I’ll let you win the next game if you want,” he says with a wink and laughs.

“Ponyboy, go sit over there and keep your mouth shut,” Soda says in a low voice as he pushes his brother towards a bar stool away from the pool table. Unfortunately, the hoods are finally at the pool table. There are six of them and they begin to surround the two Curtis brothers. Steve catches Two-Bit’s attention and they hurriedly make their way over to their friends. They can’t tell if there would need to be a fight, but these boys obviously want something.

“You boys been hoggin’ the pool table. Ain’t ya ever heard of sharin’?” The biggest guy drawls. By the looks of him and the way he’s swaying slightly on his feet, he’s plastered. He’s almost as tall as Darry and looks about as muscular. Soda wants to kick himself; he should have known sneaking Ponyboy out would land him in trouble. Since the hoods are now surrounding them, his younger brother doesn’t get a chance to sneak away and avoid the trouble.

“Table’s all yours, fellas, we’re just leaving,” Two-Bit says as politely as possible.

Soda grabs Ponyboy by the shoulders, pushing him in front of him, towards the front door. But the muscular hood puts his hand out and abruptly stops him from walking any farther. Ponyboy winces in surprise.

“Not so fast there, grease. I was thinking I recognized you somewhere, and I finally got it. You and your buddy killed that Soc a few years ago, didn’t ya? Wanted to see if it was true or not,” he sneers. “You don’t look like you could kill a kid, but I heard that was your friend. Shame he croaked,” he adds with a hint of sarcasm.

Ponyboy’s eyes go dark and he doesn’t even think before he says, “You’d be surprised what I can do. Maybe you should watch who you’re talking about like that.”

“Pony….” Soda tightens his grip on Ponyboy’s shoulder, trying to pull him away, but the greaser in front of him won’t budge. Steve and Two-Bit are close by, arms ready to start swinging if they need to. Soda whispers to his brother to try and calm him down. If he shuts his mouth now, there’s a good chance they can get out of this without a fight.

Meanwhile, the other hoods start to rack up the pool balls, seemingly uninterested in what their friend is saying to Ponyboy. Maybe they’re embarrassed with how dumb their friend is acting, but they are clearly not about to start a fight, so Steve and Two-Bit unclench their fists – but Ponyboy is another situation. He’s always had a bad mouth, never using his head before he says or does anything. Even at college, he’ll find himself saying something sarcastic back to the jock in his English class. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he messes with him so much. Darry still has to remind him to use his head – some things never change.

“Oh yeah?” The hood closes the little space that’s left between him and Ponyboy, making Soda even more anxious. “And what about that other one that bit it? That dirty hood who got shot by the fuzz? You know what I think? I think he deserved to die.” Then, seeing Ponyboy getting even more irritated, he adds spitefully, “They both did.”

That’s when he snaps. Ponyboy takes a swing at the guy’s head – which is almost a foot above his own – and manages to land a punch on his chin. He puts everything he has into that punch. The anger from the way the hood is talking and Ponyboy’s own slightly drunk state combine to make him absolutely livid.

Soda immediately grabs his brother across the chest and drags him away before anything can escalate. But before they move far enough, the hood punches Ponyboy straight in the face. The force behind his fist makes Ponyboy spin out of Soda’s grasp and he falls on the ground with a thud. Two-Bit hurries to grab his friend up from the ground, dragging him along and making their way out of the bar without attracting more attention. Steve jumps forward towards his best friend, but not before Soda punches the hood in the gut, making him double over.

He kicks his legs out from under him and he falls on the ground, clutching his stomach. Soda keeps kicking him with such force that Steve thinks he might break his foot. The hood’s friends take that moment to look over, getting a dangerous look in their eyes, but they don’t advance. Maybe this guy had it coming.

“Come on, buddy, we gotta get outta here before the fuzz show up,” Steve says to his friend as he practically drags him away from the pool table.

“Let me go, I gotta finish him!” Soda replies harshly.

“You got him pretty good, now let’s go. You gotta check on Pony.”

As if he almost forgot about his younger brother, Soda releases himself from Steve’s hold on his upper arm and runs out the front door of the bar. He spots Ponyboy sitting on the curb a little down the street, with his head hanging low. Two-Bit is sitting next to him, handing him a cigarette. Ponyboy’s always been a cigarette fiend, but he chain smokes whenever something is really bothering him. Soda hates to see him smoke at all – but when he’s been catching him doing it recently, it’s when something is wrong.

What Soda hates the most is that his kid brother never seems to catch a break. He just wants him to have a normal college life – normal college experiences. To have a lot of friends, go party on weekends sometimes, find a girlfriend even. Soda knows that’s not possible, though. The kid has been through too much to even have a shot at a normal life. Seen too much. And he’s only seventeen.

Soda approaches his brother with caution, and kneels in front of him. Now visibly shaking, Ponyboy ashes his cigarette and covers his face. Soda slowly moves to pull Ponyboy’s hands away from his face with such gentleness – as if he’s afraid his brother will crumble under his touch. Wincing in sympathy, Soda realizes why his brother is trying to hide; there’s a welt on Ponyboy’s cheekbone. It takes over most of the left side of his face, and is already starting to bruise. In the lowlight from the street lamp, it glows an eerie shade of purple.

Cradling his chin, Soda pulls it up so that Ponyboy is looking at him. “Hey,” he whispers softly. “Are you okay? How bad is it?”

“Did you get him?” Ponyboy asks in a low voice. His question is filled with emotion, but his eyes are blazing with intensity.

“Listen to me. Don’t you let that bastard get to you. He’s a no good hood with a death wish. He deserves everything comin’ to him. Now look at me,” he says as Ponyboy squirms under his touch. “Tell me the truth, Pony. How bad is it?” Soda gingerly grabs his brother’s chin again and turns his face to the side so he can look closer. The bruise looks even worse. Darry’s going to kill him.

“It hurts but it ain’t broken, I don’t think. I’m fine, Soda.” He mumbles lazily. The dangerous look in his eyes disappears but there’s something different there now – like a light has flickered off.

Sighing in relief, Soda rocks back on his heels, pulling his brother with him.

“Yeah but you ain’t gonna be when Darry gets a look at ya,” Two-Bit says, trying to lighten the mood.

Steve swats Two-Bit on the back of his head, swearing at him. Ponyboy is the first of the boys to start walking back home. Soda continues after him, not letting any distance come between him and his younger brother. He rests his hand gently on Ponyboy’s shoulder, watching him with worry as they walk.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in my face if you keep looking at me like that, Soda,” Ponyboy says, his voice a little stronger than before. He turns to look at his older brother just as Soda breaks out into a wild grin. Ponyboy grimaces as his smile pulls on the swelling around his face.

“Sorry, kiddo. Take a couple of aspirin when we get home and we’ll get you an ice pack.”

Ponyboy nods. Home – Darry’s probably there. He went in to work pretty early so there’s a good chance he’ll be back home by now. Ponyboy grumbles, knowing exactly what his oldest brother will yell at him for. First he’ll chew him out for going out when he specifically told him not to. And then he’ll go on about how Ponyboy never uses his head. It’s always the same fight.

Still thinking about what the hood said, he sighs heavily, wishing he would have just stayed home. He’ll have to tell Darry what happened, and therefore have to describe how the hood talked about Johnny. Of course something like this had to happen – just as he was moving on with his life. And now he feels like he’s right back where he started. Drowning in loneliness and grief.

They make their way home, Steve and Two-Bit branching off to their own houses along the way.

“Good luck with Superman, kid. You’ll be alright,” Steve says as he wavs goodbye to the Curtis brothers and turning in the direction of his house.

Now they are opening the gate to their front yard, already noticing Darry in the kitchen getting milk from the fridge. Soda pats his brother on the back and ushers him inside the door. He hopes Darry won’t yell too much. Ponyboy is already in an emotional state.

Hearing the front door slam, he whips around and glares at his brothers.

“‘Bout time you two showed up. Which one of you wants to explain why –?”

Noticing Ponyboy’s swollen and bruised face, he quickly covers the distance between the kitchen and the living room. Soda pushes Ponyboy to sit on the couch as he goes to get aspirin from the bathroom. He looks at Darry to warn him to go easy on Ponyboy.

Kneeling in front of his brother, Darry says, “What happened, Ponyboy? Who did this?” He grabs Ponyboy’s chin roughly, inspecting his brother’s face.

“Quit it, Dar, that hurts,” he groans. Darry drops his hands immediately, waving them in an apology. He stares at his younger brother, waiting for him to answer the question.

Soda comes back from the bathroom, three aspirin and an ice pack in his hands. Sitting on the couch next to Ponyboy, he hands them over and looks at Darry.

Sighing deeply, he says, “Listen. Don’t blame Pony. I convinced him to go out. It was my idea – I just figured he needed to get out, he’s been locked away doin’ homework too much. I know it ain’t my call but I did it.”

Darry relaxes his muscles a little bit – still not happy, but listening to what his brother has to say. Noticing his attentiveness, Soda continues.

“Some greasy hoods were at Two-Bit’s bar, we weren’t doing anything wrong. We were just playin’ pool when they came over and one of them started talking trash – about Johnny and Dal…..he said some real nasty things, man.” Soda sighs deeply and looks at his younger brother with concern. “Ponyboy punched him and the hood landed one of his own, but that’s it. No cops or nothin’. I got him though – probably broke a rib or two,” Soda adds, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Still holding the ice pack to his face, Ponyboy looks up from where he is staring at the ground. He looks at Darry with such a wounded expression that Darry knows he can’t yell at him right now.

“Alright, here’s the deal, little buddy. You’re still in trouble for sneaking out but I’m gonna forget about that for now since you have a busy week comin’ up. You just sit tight and relax for a little. Wait for those aspirin to kick in and then get yourself to bed.” Ruffling Soda’s hair, he adds, “I hope you smashed his face in.”

Soda enthusiastically nods and says, “Don’t you worry about that, I got that bastard real good.” Ponyboy smiles sadly at his brother and stretches out his legs in Soda’s lap. Darry gets up from the floor and pats Ponyboy on the shoulder, retreating back to the kitchen.

“Didn’t think you’d be let off so easy, huh? I’m sure he’ll tear me a new one once you fall asleep, though,” Soda says.

“Nah, he won’t,” Ponyboy says softly. “Sorry Sodapop, but can we just not talk anymore? I don’t feel so hot and talking about tonight ain’t gonna make me feel any better.”

Soda nods as Ponyboy shuts his eyes and begins to drift off. He waits until Ponyboy falls asleep, and then gently moves from under his brother’s feet. He brushes Ponyboy’s hair back and whispers, “I’m real sorry, kiddo. You’ll feel better tomorrow. I promise.”

Joining his older brother in the kitchen, Soda tosses the ice pack into the freezer. Deciding to not move Ponyboy from the couch, Darry just stares at him. He’s still so fragile – and his whole life is ahead of him. He’s lived his young life too hard. Too fast. He shouldn’t have to deal with things like this – yet he does. And he does it with his head high. Darry has noticed how far Ponyboy has come since his depression right after Johnny and Dally died. He doesn’t want to see him go there again – but looking at his brother’s eyes tonight told him something. They looked dark. Dangerous.

Darry remembers when Ponyboy was a little kid – always the symbol of hope and goodness in their family. The sign of a promising future. Their parents always commented on how different they were from each other. All three of them – opposites at birth. Darry was tough as nails. So no one worried because they knew he’d be the superhero. And they said Soda was kind of crooked, that he would never be the brainiac; but he would prove himself one day. As for Ponyboy, they saw a shining beacon of virtue. A promise for a bright future – they knew he’d do something significant with his life. Ponyboy will always be that beacon for his brothers to remember that there really is good in the world. Always shining, always gold.

Breaking out of his thoughts, Darry turns around and grabs Soda by the front of his shirt – pulling him into his own bedroom. He lets go of his shirt in a huff and closes the door quietly behind them.

“How could you do something so stupid? Can you imagine if the cops showed up? They’d be haulin’ him off to a home as we speak. I trust you, Soda. I can’t believe you put him at risk.”

Soda winces, hurt that Darry thinks he did it to get his little brother in trouble. “I did it forhim, Darry! I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we hardly see him anymore. He’s always at that stupid library slaving away on his homework like you tell him to. He needs a break every once in a while or he’ll explode. I know I shouldn’t have gone behind your back, yeah, I’m sorry. But when it comes to making sure Ponyboy doesn’t blow up – I’d rather risk taking him out to a bar every once in a while. Besides, he was with me, Steve, and Two-Bit. I had my eye on him the entire time. Him gettin’ hurt was just bad luck,” Soda tries to explain.

“Yeah, but you know Pony’s luck, you should’ve high-tailed it out of there as soon as those hoods walked in. And Two-Bit’s bar is in such a bad part of town, I mean you could’ve at least called me to let me know. I wouldn’t be as mad if you would have asked me first.” Darry takes a seat on the edge of his bed, Soda following in his lead. His younger brother looks at him and raises his eyebrows, questioning him. “Yeah, I know I said he wasn’t allowed to go out, but I would rather be annoyed and watching your drunk asses at the bar than sitting here worryin’ about Ponyboy. Ya understand, kiddo? We don’t need a repeat of tonight. If he really needed to go out to clear his head, y’all could have come to me about it. Ya know, I’m not a hard ass on purpose.” Darry sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“We know, Dar. You’re doing your best. It won’t happen again.”

Darry looks down at his lap and grimaces. If he’s doing his best, he’s doing a piss poor job of it. He thinks of his little brother on the couch, bruised and damaged. He’ll be lucky if Ponyboy ever gets a break from all of this.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Soda sits in Darry’s recliner for a few hours, keeping an eye on Ponyboy.

“Get some sleep soon, little buddy. He’s okay,” Darry mumbles tiredly as he walks off to his bedroom.

Soda sits there for a few hours, thinking about how tonight is his fault. But he knows Ponyboy needed to get out. Darry doesn’t see the way he comes home at night after spending countless hours in the library – drained and emotionless. Ponyboy’s making good grades, but if his sanity is to be damaged in order for that to happen, Soda doesn’t understand how he’ll keep going. He thinks about the way Ponyboy looked when he sat on that curb – the fire in his eyes – and he shutters. Soda didn’t like the way that hood was talking about Johnny and Dallas, but Ponyboy reacted in an entirely different way. He looked dangerous – like he would have killed that guy. Soda doesn’t doubt that his little brother can take care of himself, but he doesn’t want anything like tonight to ever happen again – he’s not so sure Ponyboy can handle it.

Ponyboy starts tossing and turning, letting out a distressed sigh. “Soda?” he whispers, so soft that if Soda wasn’t already looking at his brother, he wouldn’t have heard it.

Soda walks over and kneels in front of his brother. “Yeah, kiddo? You okay?” Ponyboy pushes himself up, staring at Soda.

“Yeah I’m okay, what’re you doin’ out here? It’s late.”

“Just checkin’ on ya, couldn’t sleep anyways. You ready to go to bed?” Soda asks. Seeing Ponyboy nod slowly, he grabs his arm and pulls him up from the couch. He can tell his brother is still half asleep because he can barely walk straight. Soda grabs Ponyboy by both shoulders and guides him to their bedroom. He plops down on his side of the bed – clothes and all – and turns on his stomach, shoving his face in his pillow.

Soda chuckles quietly to himself. He sits at the foot of the bed and pulls his brother’s shoes off, figuring on leaving his jeans and t-shirt. Soda moves to grab the blanket from the ground and lays it over Ponyboy. Taking off his shirt, he throws it in the dirty clothes pile and settles into bed.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Ponyboy wakes up after getting a restless night’s sleep. He wiggles out from under Soda’s arm and starts taking his clothes off, wincing as his shirt pulls on his bruise. Looking around, Ponyboy grabs a towel from the floor and walks to the bathroom. The shower starts to warm up and he looks at the mirror – noticing his cheekbone for the first time. He lightly traces the outline of the bruise, which stretches from under his left eye to the edge of his jaw. It increased in swelling and his left cheek is now noticeably larger than his right. Ponyboy only hopes the state doesn’t stop by for a surprise check-in – this bruise is large enough to raise questions.

When he steps out of the shower, he can hear the TV blaring and voices everywhere. Steve and Two-Bit are over, everybody is in a good mood since nobody works on Sundays – except Darry. Ponyboy doesn’t know if he is actually planning on going to the movies with him, but he feels too lousy to do anything but lounge around today. Darry will love that.

Making his way out of the bathroom and over to his bedroom, he walks into Soda who is greasing his hair.

“Hey,” he says and then lets out a low whistle. “Tough lookin’ bruise ya got there, kiddo. How’s it feel?”

“I’m okay, Soda.”

Soda nods and walks over, patting Ponyboy on the back. He continues out into the hallway and Ponyboy can hear him saying something in a low voice to Darry.

He comes into the room soon after, looking at Ponyboy change the notebooks in his bookbag. Darry starts to say how Ponyboy should take it easy today because of the track meet he has on Friday; but Ponyboy stops listening. All he can think about how that hood was talking – about how Johnny deserved to die. He never could seem to shake the feeling that he was responsible for his best friend’s death, and last night just reminded him of that.

The rest of the day drags on, Steve and Soda trying to convince Ponyboy and Two-Bit to play football with them. Two-Bit is watching TV and Ponyboy just sits on the floor and tries to read his English book. He does more staring off into space than reading, but nobody seems to notice.

After consistent nagging from Soda, Ponyboy decides to go outside and play football for a while, mostly just to ease Soda’s mind, but also because he needs fresh air. Maybe he’s being overdramatic, maybe he just needs to make himself forget; but it surprisingly seems to work, for the time being at least, because Ponyboy finds himself breaking out in laughter when Steve tackles Soda and he lands on his ass. Clutching his stomach, he tries to catch his breath and smiles at his older brother. He always knows what to do.

Steve and Two-Bit leave for their houses and Ponyboy and Soda start cleaning up for dinner around eight, waiting for Darry to get home to start eating. Ponyboy had told him earlier that he didn’t feel up to going to the movies and Darry nodded, relieved he didn’t have to sit through a movie that he probably wouldn’t have found interesting, but also slightly concerned that Ponyboy was uninterested in going to the movies.

Darry walks in through the front door, shrugging off his tool belt. “Hey guys, you didn’t have to wait for me,” he says with a smile.

“I wouldn’t have but Ponyboy made me,” Soda jokes. Nudging him in the ribs, Ponyboy goes to the cabinet to grab three plates.

They take their seats at the kitchen table, waiting for their oldest brother to join them. Darry goes off to his bedroom to change and is back in minutes, looking exhausted. They start eating, not making any conversation for a few minutes until Darry says, “You lookin’ forward to your first track meet on Friday, Pony?”

Ponyboy looks down at his plate. He signed up to do indoor track at the beginning of the semester and his first track meet has been silently creeping up on him. Two weeks ago, he told Darry about the date of his first meet – but what he didn’t tell him was that it got rescheduled to Wednesday. He knows his brothers requested off of work, and he does feel guilty about that, but they’re playing a really good school. There’s a good chance their team is going to get demolished, and since it’s Ponyboy’s first track meet – he wants his brothers to see him win. He’s usually not too modest about his track record – he accepts praise when he deserves it – but he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of his two biggest supporters.

Noticing Ponyboy’s quietness, Darry drops his fork and looks at him. “What’s the deal?”

“Nothin’, Dar. Just usual nerves, I’ll get over it,” Ponyboy says, finishing what’s left of the chicken on his plate.

They finish dinner and Ponyboy heads out to the front porch to write in his journal. Deciding to leave him alone for now, Soda cleans up dinner while Darry goes off to shower. Soda can’t stop thinking about his little brother’s first track meet. It’s funny because he Ponyboy doesn’t seem half as excited as Soda is.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Monday and Tuesday’s classes roll by – Ponyboy neck deep in homework.  A few of his friends from track ask about the slowly disappearing bruise on his face, but it doesn’t raise too much concern. Keeping the knowledge about his meet from his brothers is easy enough because he’s been on campus for most of his free time. Tuesday after his last class, he meets the rest of his team on the track, for one more practice before the big meet. Tossing his duffle bag on the grass by the bleachers, Ponyboy walks over to join everybody else. He sees Parker, the jock from his English class, scowling at him as he goes to sit on the far side of the bleachers.

“Alright listen up, boys,” their coach says as he addresses the team. “I want you to give me your all today, it determines what spot we put you on for tomorrow. We gotta demolish them so I really want to see what you got.” He walks over to where Ponyboy is sitting and nods at him. “Curtis and Allen, you boys are my best distance runners. I want you dukin’ it out for the 5,000 meter spot.”

Parker Allen is a senior, twenty-two years old, still an undeclared major, and the epitome of a dumb jock – which explains why he is in Ponyboy’s freshmen level English class. He’s been the track team’s star runner for his entire college career, and was extremely caught off guard when Ponyboy came out of nowhere and started to give him a run for his money. Parker messes with Ponyboy every opportunity he gets – shoving him, throwing pencils at his head, and generally being an extreme pain in his ass. Up until today, he didn’t genuinely believe Ponyboy was any competition.

“Are you kidding me, coach? I can run better than that runt and you know it. It’s not even a question – the spot is mine. I’ve earned it,” he says sharply.

Ponyboy rolls his eyes and moves his way over to the starting line, tying his shoelaces.

“Get your ass over there, Allen. Or I’ll give the spot to Curtis if you want to forfeit.”

Strutting over to where Ponyboy is stretching, Parker comes over and glares at him. They wait for their coach to blow his whistle, and then they’re off. Parker starts off strong but he soon feels his annoyance at Ponyboy bubbling inside him – and the more annoyed he gets, the more distracted he gets with trying to cut off his opponent. Ponyboy flies around the track with more ease than Parker, not letting anything but winning consume his brain.

Before he knows it, Ponyboy looks down and finds himself crossing the finish line, an entire 100 yards ahead of Parker. He receives a slap on the back from his coach, informing him of his spot for the big meet tomorrow. Looking back to peer at Parker, Ponyboy sees that he’s fuming. He doesn’t say anything to their coach, but walks straight over to where Ponyboy is now standing. Seeing how agitated he is, Ponyboy has to consciously remind himself to use his head before he says something stupid. Parker comes over, getting directly in Ponyboy’s face, and says menacingly, “Listen up, runt. I’m not trying to be shown up by a seventeen year old kid. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t show up tomorrow.” He shoves Ponyboy lightly, as to not attract attention from his coach, and stalks off to sit with his team on the bleachers.

They practice for another two hours, Ponyboy thinking about what Parker said the whole time. He ran the best time he ever had – if he doesn’t run in the meet tomorrow, he knows he’ll regret it for a long time. If he shows up, there’s no telling how far Parker will go to make Ponyboy sorry. But he then remembers how he felt when that hood was mouthing off; he was infuriated, he could have taken anyone in the state he was in. If he can handle one bully he can sure handle another.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Once Wednesday morning comes around, Ponyboy finds himself getting more anxious by the second. He practically pushes his brothers out the door, mumbling goodbyes as they go off to work. Ponyboy grabs his bookbag and makes his way out to Steve, who’s waiting for him.

“Let’s go,” Ponyboy says to him gruffly. Scoffing in annoyance, Steve starts the engine and peels out of the street towards campus.

Five painfully silent minutes later, Steve finally speaks up.

“What’s got your undies in a bunch this morning?” Steve chuckles lightly.

“Nothin’ for you to worry about. I’m sure you don’t care anyways,” Ponyboy snaps.

Steve’s never taken much of an interest in Ponyboy’s personal life, but they’re a gang – when one of them is down, it’s up to their buddies to pick them up.

“Come on, kid, spill. I’m not lettin’ you get out of this car ‘til you tell me.”

Ponyboy exhales slowly and then confesses the truth about his current situation. He tells Steve everything – including his history with Parker. The thing that confuses Steve the most is why he wouldn’t tell Soda; he knows the connection the two brothers have. In the end, he manages to half-convince half-threaten Ponyboy to call Soda about his situation. He knows Darry will be pissed so he recommends starting with the brother he actually can contain.

They part ways – Steve waving goodbye as he heads off to his history class. He has to work after he gets out, so he tells his friend that he might not be able to make it to his meet.

Ponyboy lopes off to the library before his first class. He decides to read a little bit of his English book, before calling Soda, to try and settle his nerves a bit. Eventually, he sets his book back down and starts making his way over to the librarian’s desk.

Since he’s in there at least twice every day, he knows the librarians pretty well by now. They think he’s a good kid so they let him take books without checking them out and let him into their lounge sometimes.

“Hi Ms. White, could I use your phone to call my brothers? It’s kinda important.” Ponyboy shifts nervously.

“Of course, hun, go ahead over to the lounge, take as much time as ya need,” the librarian says sweetly.

He makes his way over to the phone. Mentally preparing himself, he dials the number to the DX.

“DX, this is Sodapop,” he drawls lazily.

“It’s me,” Ponyboy starts uncertainly, “Soda, I got somethin’ to tell you. You’re not gonna like it.” He twirls the phone cord and stares at the carpet.

“What is it, Ponyboy?”

Ponyboy tells his story almost exactly the way he told Steve, figuring on getting it out of the way sooner rather than later. Soda, of course, is upset with his younger brother and launches into protective mode.

“Ponyboy...has he ever hit you? Don’t you even think about lying to me,” he says hurriedly.

“No, I promise. It ain’t like that. He’s just a dumb jock, he wouldn’t hit me,” Ponyboy lowers his voice, “he knows better.”

They continue talking for a few more minutes and Ponyboy manages to calm his brother down, convincing him to call Darry so he doesn’t have to. Soda tells him that he’ll call the library back after he talks to Darry. They agree to hear what their oldest brother has to say before they decide if it’s a good idea for Ponyboy to compete in the meet. He’s not sure how long it will take to get a hold of Darry, so Ponyboy sits down at the table and waits for the phone to ring again.

He picks it up after the first ring, not even ten minutes later, expecting the worse. He barely puts the phone to his ear when he hears Darry’s thunderous voice from the other end.

“Ponyboy Curtis,” Darry says in his strong, low voice. “You know better than to keep stuff like this from me. I can’t believe you thought we wouldn’t find out. Never using your head…you think you’d learn your lesson by now,” Darry says sharply. Ponyboy can practically see his brother shaking his head at him.

“Darry, I know –”

“Listen, Pony. You’re in trouble, but that’s not what I want to talk about right now. Soda said your meet is in two hours. It’s your first one, kid, you gotta compete. Me and Soda are gonna figure something out at work, it would’ve been nice if you could’ve told us about the change of date; but we’ll be there. And I’ll talk Steve and Two-Bit into coming too; with all of us there, we won’t let Parker get anywhere near you. We’ll be keeping a close eye on you the whole time, and we’ll sit close to the track so we can jump in if we need to. I don’t care if you think you’re gonna lose, Ponyboy. It’s your first college meet; of course we’re gonna be there.”

Ponyboy talks to Darry for a few more minutes, reassuring him that he’ll be able to handle Parker until his brothers can get to campus, and then makes his way back to his table. He packs up his bookbag and leaves for his only two classes of the day. Luckily, Parker wouldn’t be making an appearance in them.

With nothing but his meet on his mind, Ponyboy distractedly makes his way through his last class, bolting out of there once his professor dismisses them. He rips open the door to the locker room; he’s there early enough so that he’s the only one. Even so, Ponyboy quickly changes and heads up two floors to the indoor track. A bunch of people are hanging around by the bleachers, waiting for the meet to begin, so he feels safe – he doubts Parker will do anything when there’s people around.

The minutes tick by and the rest of the track team filters onto the track, Parker strolling in with the last of them. He spots Ponyboy immediately and scowls – making his way over to his teammate. Then suddenly, Parker starts to slow down. Darry and Soda walk up from behind Ponyboy and stand on either side of him, staring directly in Parker’s direction.

Not taking his eyes off of Parker, Soda turns his head slightly to his younger brother and says, “That the kid, Pony?”

Ponyboy nods as Parker turns around and makes his way over to the bleachers, huffing all the way. Darry takes his attention off of the current threat and looks Ponyboy in the eyes. “You listen, Ponyboy. Don’t let him get to you. You run your best and we’ll take care of the bastard if he gets rough. Just get your head outta the clouds and focus,” Darry says. His voice is strong but there’s a hint of pride that can be heard. Ponyboy notices it.

“I know, Darry. I won’t let you down,” he says with a timid smile.

“You better head on over to your coach, Pony, I think he’s looking for you. You’re gonna kill it, kiddo. Good luck,” Soda says as he nudges his younger brother playfully, smiling wildly.

Sitting as far away from Parker as possible, Ponyboy takes a seat right by his coach, waiting for the first event to start. The 5,000 meter race is second in the line-up, which Ponyboy prefers because he can get rid of his nerves as soon as possible. He keeps nervously looking back at his brothers, just two rows to the left of him. Right as the first event finishes, he watches Two-Bit file into the bleachers next to his brothers. There’s still no Steve in sight, but Ponyboy hopes they won’t need his help.

Ponyboy’s event is announced and he vaguely notices his brothers and Two-Bit make their way anxiously to the front row. He walks past Parker with a sideways glance; his fists are clenched and he looks furious. Ponyboy pretends not to notice.

Darry and Sodapop are now standing on the sidelines at Ponyboy's first college track meet. Sometimes they have to remind themselves how crazy this all is – their seventeen year old kid brother has so many accomplishments to be proud of. When Ponyboy called them that morning in the library, Darry honestly wasn’t sure if he would be able to get off work. But he worked double shifts last week, and his boss has always been fond of the Curtis family, so he let him go.

Soda used his manager status to force Steve into covering for him at the DX. Being that Steve was the first person Ponyboy told of his situation; he agreed to take his shift. As Soda walked out of the store, Steve smirked and said, "Tell the kid I said good luck. Maybe I’ll get out in time to see him win." Because no matter how much Steve can put up the front that he’s bothered by Ponyboy, Soda knows that he cares about him. _Who couldn't?_ Soda smiles to himself. Ponyboy has this vulnerable look that makes a person want to care for him – want to protect him.

After he told his story, Ponyboy insisted that his team was going to get whipped and wanted to save himself the embarrassment, but Soda and Darry weren't having it. They needed to be there.

Ponyboy lopes on over to the starting line, smiling bashfully at his brothers. Soda watches him double knot his sneakers with a little smirk on his face while Darry struggles to keep his nerves in check. He crosses his arms to stop his hands from shaking because he’s obviously nervous, his kid brother is competing in his very first college level track meet.

As soon as he jumps from the starting line, they can see Ponyboy’s worries wash away. Running is his passion. Darry understands, he felt that same rush when he played football. Soda doesn’t get it, and he doesn’t try to, but he’s glad his younger brother has something that can put his overactive mind at ease. Ponyboy's big brothers keep their eyes glued to him during his race, cheering with pride every step of the way. The time moves surprisingly quickly, and when it's over, they just look at each other with crazy grins on their faces. He won. Of course he won. Of course they'd come to his track meet. Of course they always would.

Ponyboy is officially a seventeen year old college track star.

Caught up in the chaos that is all of Ponyboy’s teammates rushing to congratulate him, Darry and Soda lose sight of Parker. Two-Bit makes his way over to the Curtis brothers and the three of them try and push their way through to Ponyboy. Soda spots his younger brother and pulls him out of the crowd.

“Way to go, kiddo, that was awesome! Darry! I got him!” Soda waves to get the attention of Darry and Two-Bit, who look a little uncomfortable in the group of swarming college students.

Darry walks over to his brothers and ruffles Ponyboy’s hair affectionately. “Congratulations, Ponyboy. I knew you could do it. I’m real proud of you, kiddo.”

Two-Bit slaps his friend on the back and gives his own words of congratulations. Wasting no time, Darry tells Soda to go get their car, but Soda argues about needing to stay with Ponyboy while Parker is still temporarily unaccounted for. Darry ensures that he will be able to handle any trouble, so Soda grudgingly agrees to go bring around the truck while Two-Bit sticks around with Darry.

As he starts to pull away from Darry’s protective hold on his shoulder, Ponyboy says, “I’ll be right back, Darry. I just gotta say bye to coach and get my duffle. I’ll be fine, Parker ain’t even around.”

“Alright, but be quick.” Darry huffs in annoyance but allows his brother to go – keeping his eyes on him. As Ponyboy picks up his bag and begins to make his way back, Parker appears out of the crowd of the track team. Clenching his fists, Darry resists the urge to run forward, relatively confident that Parker won’t do anything in front of everybody else.

“What did I tell you, runt? You just made me look like a joke.” Parker sneers as he shoves Ponyboy. Caught off guard, he stumbles backwards slightly and drops his duffle bag. At that point, Darry swiftly walks up to his younger brother and moves slightly in front of him as he stares Parker down.

Darry stands tall and rigid, crossing his muscular arms. “I think you should leave. And you’ll think twice before you ever touch him again.”

Getting slightly embarrassed, Ponyboy shrinks back and picks up his duffle bag from the ground. “Let’s go, Dar,” he says quietly.

Parker shifts his shoulders gruffly and begins to stroll by the two brothers. On his way past Ponyboy, he whispers, “You better watch your back, Curtis,” so quietly that Darry doesn’t manage to hear it. Ponyboy just rolls his eyes. This kid is acting like a fifth grader.

“Come on, kiddo,” Darry says as he grabs Ponyboy’s shoulder and steers him towards where Two-Bit is waiting. The three of them make their way out of the building and find Soda waiting for them in the parking lot. He asks what took so long; Darry spares him the details.

As he gets into his own car, Two-Bit waves goodbye to the Curtis brothers and says he’ll be over later.

With the incident with Parker pushed behind them, the car ride home is nothing short of exhilarating. Darry and Soda keep reliving their younger brother’s race and tell him about their reactions to every part of it. Ponyboy shyly accepts the compliments but he knows the truth – he was amazing. He knows that was probably one of the best times he ever ran, and shoving it in Parker’s face like that gives him a thrilling rush. He’ll think about dealing with him in class later.

Soda pulls the truck along the curb in front of their house and smiles as he notices his best friend sitting on the front porch. Getting up from the stoop, Steve goes to greet Soda at the truck.

Seeing Ponyboy hop out of the truck, Steve eyes him curiously. “Well? How’d it go?”

Ponyboy does his best to try and act defeated but he can’t hold in his smile much longer. He bursts out into a wide grin and says, “Beat ‘em.”

Not long after he says this, Soda comes around the side of the truck and grabs his younger brother around the waist, picking him up and playfully letting him drop back down. Steve breaks into a smile of his own and takes that opportunity to walk over and shake Ponyboy’s shoulders excitedly. He lets go and says with a little too much enthusiasm, “Way to go, kid, I knew you’d win.”

As if noticing his unusual response, Steve awkwardly steps back and runs a hand nervously through his overly greased hair. He clears his throat and says, “I mean…uh...ya know. Good job.”

“Thanks, Steve,” Ponyboy replies and takes a playful punch to his friend’s arm. Steve chuckles lightly and ruffles Ponyboy’s hair.

“You close up early at the DX there, Stevie? Ya know what I say about skippin’ shifts…” Soda smiles and winks at his friend.

“Nah, man. The new kid came in and said he’d finish up for me. That kid follows me around like a puppy, does anything I tell him to,” Steve says with a shake of his head.

Darry comes over from getting the mail, handing off Ponyboy’s track bag, and pats his youngest brother on the back. He’s never been one to dwell on emotional moments but Ponyboy can tell that this track meet means a lot to him. He wonders if Darry will ever stop feeling bitter about his ruined football career.

The four boys make their way into the house and sit around while Ponyboy showers. They wait for him in order to start making dinner and then just lounge around – playing cards, watching TV, and blasting the stereo. Two-Bit makes an appearance a couple of hours later, mapping out his plans for the night. The mood is electrified the entire night, and Ponyboy almost doesn’t want to go to sleep because he knows tomorrow will be hell. He has to face Parker tomorrow. Alone. His brothers told Steve to keep an eye out for him, but it’s not like Steve can actually attend Ponyboy’s classes without raising suspicions.

Planning for the worst, Ponyboy begins to settle down from his exciting night and heads off to bed – receiving praises from everybody once again.

However, Thursday rolls along and Parker doesn’t make an appearance in Ponyboy’s English class. He bounces his legs the entire class period, just waiting for him to show up late – but he doesn’t. _Probably too embarrassed to show up,_ Ponyboy thinks. Steve waits around for him and practically jumps on Ponyboy as he makes his way out of the classroom. Also surprised, and now thoroughly annoyed, Steve says goodbye to his friend and heads off in the direction of his next class, which he is now late for. Still waiting by the doorway, one of Ponyboy’s good friends from the track team approaches him.

“Hey, Ponyboy. Awesome job yesterday, man. You were born for the 5,000 meter,” he says, winking at him.

Ponyboy stands a little straighter and smiles. “Thanks a lot, Ryder…But hey, the rest of the team really pulled through too. I heard we shut them out in almost everything. I’m mad I missed it,” he tells him regretfully. He feels that Darry may have overreacted a little bit about how urgent it was for Ponyboy to get out of there. But he’s not surprised.

“Sure did.” Ryder grabs Ponyboy by the arm and guides him over to a less crowded part of the hallway. “So, get this, there’s this huge banger happening tomorrow night at my house off campus. Consider this your formal invitation.”

Ryder is a senior and, like Parker, has been a star runner since his freshmen year. However, unlike Parker, he took Ponyboy under his wing after the first time he saw him run. They’ve been close ever since. What’s funny to Ponyboy is that if Socs and greasers were still heavily labeled like they were a few years ago – Ryder would most definitely be a Soc. He doesn’t brag about it, he’s very humble, but Ponyboy knows he’s disgustingly loaded. Ryder has invited Ponyboy to his house before but he always felt too awkward to take him up on the invite.

“That sounds awesome, man. I don’t know, though. My older brothers don’t like when I go out much…but maybe since it’s to celebrate the meet I can convince them. Stop by the library sometime tomorrow morning and I’ll have an answer.”

Being relatively close to Ponyboy, Ryder has heard all about Soda and Darry. Laughing and clapping his friend on the back he says, “Shoot, invite them too. The whole track team will be there. You just gotta be there, kid. You deserve it.”

Ponyboy laughs. “Don’t I know it. I’ll see ya tomorrow morning then, Ryder.”

Since English is his last class of the day, Ponyboy heads off to the library to wait for Steve to take him home. An hour later, he makes his way out to his friend’s car and waits on the curb. Deciding to ask for advice, Ponyboy gets up once he sees Steve making his way over to the car. He takes a deep breath.

“So, Steve, what do ya think Soda and Darry would say about me going to a track party tomorrow at my buddy’s house? He’s a good friend, and his house is in a real good part of town and everything…” Ponyboy trails off as he climbs into the passenger seat.

Steve laughs and shakes his head, fumbling with his keys in the ignition. “Kid, I think you know the answer to that. Especially since you lied to them about the whole Parker situation.”

“But Parker probably won’t even be there. The whole track team hates him.”

Steve pulls out of the campus parking lot towards the Curtis house. “Sure, man. Just ask them. Don’t even think about hiding it from them.”

They talk about Ponyboy’s meet for the rest of the ride. Once Steve drops him off, he peels off towards his own home. Ponyboy lets the front door fall close with a crash, juggling his books and loaded bookbag. He greets Soda from the kitchen and lets his books fall noisily onto his desk. Figuring on waiting for Darry to get home from work, Ponyboy waits to ask about the track party.

He and Soda sit at the kitchen table playing cards, talking about their days while waiting for their oldest brother to get home. Soda starts dinner after a bit, timing it perfectly so that when Darry walks in forty minutes later, dinner is just being set on the table.

“How were your classes today, Ponyboy? Was there any trouble from Parker?” Darry asks with concern.

Soda, having completely forgotten about Parker, shoots his younger brother an anxious look. “Shoot, Pony, I forgot, you seem okay though?”

“Yeah, he didn’t even show up today. Probably still bitter about yesterday.” Setting his glass of chocolate milk down, Ponyboy swallows thickly. “Speaking of yesterday, you remember my friend Ryder from the track team?”

Darry nods and continues eating his chicken. “Yeah, good kid. Got a good head on his shoulders. What about him?”

Knowing his brother too well, Soda eyes Ponyboy suspiciously and puts his fork down. “Spill it, kiddo. You’re hiding something.”

“Well…he’s got this house a little off campus. He’s rich so I’m sure it’s real nice and it’s in a good part of town. He’s having this party tomorrow night to celebrate our track meet yesterday. It sounds like he really wants me to be there.” Ponyboy clears his throat nervously and says a little quieter, “And uh, I’d really like to be there too, ya know.”

Darry grumbles, “Yeah, I’m sure you would. But don’t forget you’re still grounded for sneaking out to the bar _and_ for keeping your meet from us. Plus, who’s to say that Parker won’t show up and try and fight you again? So, no, I’d rather not take the chance.”

Already expecting the worst, Ponyboy hangs his head and begins to clear up his dishes. He mumbles an “alright” and pushes out of his chair clumsily, walking towards the kitchen.

“Hey, not so fast.” Soda sticks a hand out and grabs Ponyboy’s wrist. Then, turning to his older brother, he says, “The bar was my fault and you know it. As for yesterday, you’re seriously gonna stop him from going? He was amazing out there. Let him celebrate, come on, man.”

Huffing in annoyance, Darry puts his hands on the table and gives Soda a look down. He shakes his head. “How did I know you’d try to get involved? Ponyboy is my responsibility and I decide where he decides to go…but you’ve got a point.” Turning to his other brother, he says, “You made me real proud yesterday. I’ll let you go to this party – but you’ve got a few rules.”

Dropping his dishes back on the table, Ponyboy practically has to refrain from jumping up and down with excitement. “Thanks, Dar! And don’t worry about Parker, the team hates him, I’ll bet he won’t even show up.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo. Now, rule number one: you’re getting picked up at 1:00. Not one minute later, so make sure to tell me the address before you go. Rule number two: you’re to call home an hour after you get there to let me know that there’s no trouble with Parker. If we don’t hear from you, one of us is gonna come over to check on you.” Seeing Ponyboy nod enthusiastically, taking in every bit of information, Darry smiles fondly. Soda never bothers to listen to what rules Darry lays out for him. Deciding to pull in the reins a little bit, he says with a little more sympathetic tone, “And the last one is to have fun, kiddo. I’m glad you didn’t try to hide this from us.”

Ponyboy falls asleep easily, excited for what tomorrow brings.

In the library on Friday morning, Ryder comes by and is more than delighted to hear that his friend will be coming. He writes down his address and phone number for Darry and waves goodbye to Ponyboy – saying that he’ll see him at nine tonight.

In the car ride home from campus, Steve listens to Ponyboy and is surprised to hear about Darry’s reaction. They enter the Curtis house a few minutes later and begin to unwind from the hard work week. Ponyboy goes off to his room and tries to find a less greasy shirt for tonight. He settles for stealing one of Soda’s nicer flannels and pulls his cleanest pair of jeans from the bottom of his dresser. The party isn’t for another three hours but he’s too excited to help himself.

“Look at you, what a nerd. You’re real excited for tonight, aren’t ya? It’ll be good for you. You need to get out more,” Soda jokes.

Ponyboy rolls his eyes and throws a book at his older brother, letting out a small laugh of his own.

Two-Bit arrives and the five of them sit in the living room watching TV, drinking beer, and eating dinner on the ground. The mood is light and Ponyboy feels like it’s foreshadowing the night ahead of him. He knows he’s in for a fun time; and he’s glad it’s at Ryder’s house – he’s Ponyboy’s only real friend at college.

Nine-o-clock rolls around and Ponyboy is waiting for Soda to get his shoes on to take him to the party.

“Alright, Ponyboy. Remember the rules. We’ll be waitin’ up for you. Have fun,” Darry says as he smiles and ruffles his youngest brother’s hair.

Ponyboy says goodbye to Steve and Two-Bit and makes his way out to where Soda is waiting for him. They talk mindlessly until Soda pulls the truck into the driveway of what looks to be a small mansion. He scoffs in annoyance but knows that his brother wouldn’t be hanging around with this kid unless he was a respectable person.

“Alright, kiddo. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Soda says as he nudges Ponyboy, winking mischievously at him.

He laughs and says, “That don’t leave much. Thanks again, Soda, I’ll call you in an hour. See ya!” He jumps out of the truck and starts walking up the driveway. From what Soda can tell, the party is already in full swing. The thunderous bass can be heard from a room in the front, and pulsing fluorescent lights are flashing across the windows. Soda smiles to himself and thinks what a crazy night his brother is in for.

Ringing the doorbell, Ponyboy fumbles with the collar of his shirt, popping it like Soda does. He smiles as Ryder opens the door.

“Cuuuurtis! ‘Bout time you got here. Welcome to my humble abode. Allow me to give you a tour,” he says, gesturing outrageously, inviting his friend in.

Ponyboy is shocked by what he’s facing. The skylight ceiling is extremely vaulted, causing Ponyboy to gape at the sheer height of it. The winding staircase seems to be never-ending and is already cluttered with beer cans and trash. He wonders how badly Ryder will regret throwing this party when tomorrow comes around. The majority of the track team has already arrived, and so have a good number of other people. Ponyboy guesses it’s probably around 60 people – and the party just started.

“Man, your house is crazy. You live here all by yourself?’ Ponyboy asks wondrously.

Attempting to stay modest, Ryder waves him off, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s not much. And my older sister lives here sometimes. She’s got a pretty steady boyfriend though, so she’s not around much. Tonight being a prime example. She would definitely not approve…” Ryder cringes and picks up a beer from the table by the front door. “Anyways, let me show you around.” He gives Ponyboy the beer and they make their way around the first floor.

After seeing the countless rooms upstairs, and greeting his few friends from the track team, Ponyboy and Parker weave their way through the party guests littering the stairwell. They quickly tour the basement, and settle back in the foyer.

“Well now that you’ve seen everything, let’s join in the fun, what do ya say, buddy?”

Looking around, Ponyboy notices a couple of kids playing darts. He remembers that others downstairs were at a table playing some sort of drinking game with cards. But once he catches a glimpse of the pool table on the other side of the dining room, he knows what he wants to do.

Ponyboy sets his second empty beer canon a table. He smiles crookedly. “You bet your ass, man. Let’s go play pool.”

“That’s my boy! Just gotta warn ya, I’m pretty smashed so my aim might be a little off,” Ryder says with a lopsided grin that reminds Ponyboy of Soda.

They head over to the pool table, Ryder grabbing a few more beers for each of them. They find two kids from the track team who they’re both friends with and begin playing. Ponyboy, of course, surprises everybody with his skill and before long, kids are piling up behind them waiting for their turn to try and beat the winning team. Even with Ryder’s terribly amusing drunk shots, Ponyboy manages to pull their team to victory. After playing a few more games, and drinking a few more beers, he decides to give other kids a shot. He and Ryder walk over to the kitchen.

Ponyboy looks at the intricately detailed clock hanging above the three door refrigerator. Eleven minutes past ten. He grumbles quietly.

“Hey man, would it be cool if I called my brothers real quick? They were kinda nervous about me going out and they just wanted me to check in.”

“Yeah, sure. You can use the phone in the office, I’ll go with you, just one sec,” Ryder says.

He gets yet another beer can from the fridge and opens it; but Ponyboy is surprised when Ryder hands it to him. Ponyboy takes it with a mumble of thanks and they walk towards the front of the house to the office.

As if right on cue, the overgrown, hot-tempered jock known as Parker Allen busts through the front door, determined to ruin a relaxing and otherwise uneventful evening. His clothes are slightly askew and his face is growing in redness. By the looks of his eyes, bloodshot and glossy, he’s already drunk or high on something.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ponyboy says dryly – not even thinking about turning away. He figures the sooner he settles things with him the better.

Parker immediately spots Ponyboy and walks slowly forward – never taking his eyes off of him. Though he seemed thoroughly intoxicated just minutes ago, Ryder quickly sobers up and moves to stand slightly in front of his friend.

“Nobody invited you here, buddy. Why don’t you turn around before you cause any trouble,” he says aggressively.

But Parker only has eyes for Ponyboy. Weaving around the party guests in the foyer, he reaches the pair and roughly shoves Ryder out of the way. He advances. The first punch catches Ponyboy across his left eye. He’s stunned by the impact, the freshly opened beer can falling to the ground with a thud. But he composes himself as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, not before Parker jabs him in the ribs – knocking out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Parker backs up a few steps and starts laughing.

“After I heard your shitty little face would be here I just had to show up. Teach you to respect your elders,” Parker says with a smirk.

Ponyboy doesn’t even trust himself to speak yet, because he’s not sure what exactly will come out. It’s a good thing he’s so used to fights – after years of rumbles, he knows what to do. He stands up straight and looks his opponent straight in his shifty brown eyes. Gone are the days of slouching and hooking his thumbs in his pockets – he’s not trying to look like a tough hood. He’s hungry for vengeance.

“Wrong night to mess with me, Parker,” Ponyboy says. His eyes are alive with fire and his voice is acidic.

He moves forward swiftly and knees Parker in the groin. Ponyboy vaguely realizes that Parker’s reflexes might be a bit delayed given his drunken state, but he doesn’t let that boost his confidence because he’s had more than a few beers himself. Coughing in pain, Parker screams a slur of swears and attempts to jab Ponyboy in the ribs again. He misses, but manages to knock him down with the effort anyways.

Ponyboy rolls to the side as Parker goes to punch his throat. Huffing in anger, he regains his balance while Ponyboy gets back on his feet. They circle each other briefly before Ponyboy lunges forward and buries his fist in Parker’s face. Shocked by the power behind his punch, he stumbles slightly as Ponyboy keeps advancing forward. He notices the momentary weakness in his opponent and takes advantage of it.

As he closes the remaining distance between him and Parker, Ponyboy unleashes his fury. His mind goes black. He’s not even aware of where he’s hitting Parker but he knows he’s causing damage.

He fights angry and dirty and reckless. He fights desperate.

Ponyboy backs up slowly, admiring his work. Parker is face down on the ground, groaning and rolling around. Looking down at his hands, Ponyboy stares in awe. His knuckles are cracked with blood. The bruises already forming are black as if he’s been burned. The right hand is the worst – blood is running freely from deep gashes on his knuckles. He flexes it cautiously and winces – definitely broken.

He backs up carefully as Parker struggles to his feet. It would’ve been easier to knock him out if he wasn’t 6 feet of pure muscle and adrenaline. Even for the size Ponyboy has mustered over the years, he knows he’s not as strong as Parker. Faster, of course, but running is the last thing he wants to do right now.

“Get the fuck out of here, Parker,” Ryder hisses as he moves to grab him. Parker, now firmly standing on his feet again, turns to his left and punches him in the face. He shakes his head to clear it and advances on Ponyboy again.

“Now, now. Somebody likes to play a little dirty. But it looks like your brothers can’t save you this time. Just like you couldn’t save those jokes you called your friends,” he sneers.

That’s what stops him. Ponyboy winces in spite of himself. He didn’t think any of his college classmates knew about Johnny and Dally. _How could he know?_ But Ponyboy doesn’t have time to think about it further because Parker takes advantage of his shock. He makes a jab at Ponyboy’s stomach and knocks the breath out of him. He shoves his knee to Ponyboy’s ribs twice and knocks him to the ground for good measure.

Hopelessly out of breath, Ponyboy tries weakly to get back to his feet. Without hesitating, Parker shoves his opponent back to the ground. He kicks his head with an appalling force – like he’s actually trying to kill Ponyboy. The people now gathered around the pair gasp in shock at how hard Parker is fighting but he doesn’t seem to be letting up.

Police sirens can be vaguely heard in the distance, which signals the party guests to vacate the house. With the chaos of everybody trying to shove through the front door, Parker gets distracted. Ryder and two of his friends from the track team manage to get a hold of him. Now pinned between two guys, Ryder takes the opportunity to punch Parker a few times.

“You’ll think twice before messing with him anymore,” he warned. Still curled in on himself on the floor, slipping slowly out of consciousness, Ponyboy manages to hear him and thinks of his brothers.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

It is now twenty minutes past ten and Darry is starting to get antsy. He sets his coffee mug down on the kitchen table with a thud and gets up from his chair. Making his way over to the phone, he dials the number that Ponyboy gave to him. After countless rings, Darry slams the phone back on the wall with anger.

Soda, who is lounging on the living room couch, sits up and leans forward. “No answer?” he asks while stretching his arms.

“No,” Darry mutters crossly. He’s annoyed but also slightly worried – Soda notices.

“He’s probably fine, just having too much fun to call us. You gotta remember he’s just a kid, Dar. Kids are gonna do what they want,” Soda says, making a feeble attempt to calm his older brother.

Darry shakes his head stiffly, reaching for his keys. “No he won’t. Not while I’m around he won’t.”

Abandoning his comfortable spot on the couch, Soda sighs and gets up. “I’ll go,” he offers. He’s not as worried as Darry but he did think Ponyboy would be smart enough to call them on time.

“Well, pick up Steve then. In case there’s any trouble,” Darry adds in a lower, unsure tone.

Soda nods and quickly puts his shoes on, grabbing the keys to Darry’s truck on his way out the door. He drives over to Steve’s and convinces him to ride along. Steve just rolls his eyes in annoyance over Darry’s overprotectiveness.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

By the time the cops arrive, the whole party has vacated except for Ponyboy, Ryder, and a few of Ponyboy’s other friends from the track team. Unfortunately, Parker yanked free of Ryder’s grasp when he first heard the sirens and bolted straight out of the front door. The guys on the track team briefly considered chasing him down but Ryder insisted it was pointless. He manages to keep Ponyboy from passing out, and settles him on the steps outside while he answers questions from the cops. It turns out that one of Ryder’s neighbors had called because of the noise complaints.

With an exceptional amount of dumb luck, only one police car showed up, and the two officers that came happened to be friends of Ryder’s family. They’ve been partners for decades and used to bust the huge parties his father would throw when he was a college student. They’re used to this.

Ryder fills them in on the fight that broke out between Ponyboy and Parker – the noise complaint now the least of his worries – and quickly describes that his friend was only fighting in self-defense, in case Parker tries to spin it any other way. He explains the urgency of Ponyboy’s current condition and the men immediately call for an ambulance. The older looking cop, probably in his late fifties, walks up to Ponyboy who is slumped awkwardly on the stoop.

“Hang in there, son, the ambulance should be here soon. I just need to ask you a few questions,” he says in a soft, weirdly tame voice.

Ponyboy keeps his arms tightly wrapped around his ribcage but raises his throbbing head slightly to look at the officer. He has ice blue eyes like Darry. But a soft, gentle face. Ponyboy nods slightly to encourage him to continue.

They only talk for a few minutes, but it’s long enough for the cop to feel sorry for the kid. After learning about his living situation, the death of his parents, and the risk of the state taking him away to a boy’s home, his heart breaks with sympathy. He can’t report this. The punk that beat him deserves to be punished but if he files a report on the fight, he’s almost certain that Ponyboy will be taken away. He sighs, trying to assess the situation rationally.

“Do you have a number that I can call to get in touch with your brothers?” he asks.

Before Ponyboy can so much as nod in response, his eyes slump with comfort as he spots the familiar truck pulling into the long, complicated driveway. Soda barely puts the truck in park before he’s bolting towards the front steps. He rushes past a shameful looking Ryder and the other cop.

Steve’s close behind him but Soda doesn’t notice anybody but Ponyboy.

He slows to a stop and kneels in front of his younger brother, taking in his appearance in full. “Aw, kiddo, look at you…” he says, his emotions unraveling. He lightly traces the bruise surrounding Ponyboy’s left eye. His anger starts bubbling.  He doesn’t even ask if his brother is okay – clearly he’s not. Soda also doesn’t ask who is responsible for putting him in this condition. “Is he still here, Pony? I swear to god –” Soda breaks off his trail of thought, his fury threatening to take over. He gets up and starts pacing, running a hand down his face. Ponyboy, still unwilling to move his arms from his ribs, tries to calm his brother.

“Calm down, Soda. He got away. There’s nothing you can do about it now,” he says in a shaky voice. Sensing the emotions welling inside, he stops talking because he doesn’t want to cry in front of Steve, who is quietly watching from over by Ryder, his fists balling ever so slightly in his own anger.

Soda moves over back to Ponyboy, kneeling in front of his spot on the steps. He turns to the cop standing close by, as if noticing him for the first time.

“Are you gonna call an ambulance or let him bleed to death?” Soda asks in a dangerous tone. If the cop wasn’t already feeling sorry for Ponyboy, he might have cuffed him for talking that way.

“I understand you’re upset, buddy, but the ambulance should be here shortly. We’re doing the best we can,” the cop tells him. He tries to sound gentle but Soda can hear a spot of annoyance in his voice.

“Yeah, well, if you were doing the best you could, he wouldn’t look like somebody put him through the garbage disposal. Do better,” Soda barks. He’s looks back over to Ponyboy, inspecting the damage. His eyes scan over the awkward way he’s sitting, with his arms wrapped around himself. Fractured ribs, probably. Hopefully not broken. Soda takes in the black eye, the busted and gushing knuckles, until he notices the deep gash to Ponyboy’s head and curses – remembering the last concussion he got. He forces himself to take a deep breath and reaches his hands out to Ponyboy’s trembling arms.

Slowly rubbing them in comfort, Soda whispers, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Just try to stay awake, I’m not leaving you.” Ponyboy looks away in shame. He’s embarrassed. Not because he couldn’t defend himself, because he obviously could. He may be in terrible shape, but he’s pretty sure Parker now has mostly broken ribs, a busted face, and maybe a ruptured spleen, with the jabs he was taking to his gut. What Ponyboy is embarrassed about is the fact that he didn’t kill Parker. Fighting isn’t a necessity in his life, he doesn’t like for it to happen, but in the right circumstances – he aims to finish what he started. Somehow, Parker found out about Johnny and Dally, and that’s enough for Ponyboy to aim for blood. He felt it with the hood at the bar and he feels it now. The gnawing on his insides. The presence of dread and despair.

Steve turns to speak to Ryder and they go inside to call Darry. He’ll be furious – but even more so that he doesn’t have a way to make it to Ryder’s house since Soda took the truck. But Steve figures he should give the oldest Curtis brother a heads up. The ambulance comes in the next minute; the nice cop that spoke to Ponyboy quickly fills them in on the situation. Coming to his decision, he tells the medics to not bring him to the hospital. If Ponyboy is admitted to the hospital, the state will surely find out about it – and that’s the last thing these boys need.

Now sitting inside the ambulance, Ponyboy allows himself to be prodded. He barely even realizes the pain anymore because he’s hooked up to a strong dosage of morphine. With the fuzziness in his head, it’s enough to disorient him. Soda sits next to him, guarding him in the best way he knows how – by being there. Twenty minutes tick by and Ponyboy snaps back into focus. Running up the front lawn is Darry, Two-Bit loping along behind him – Two-Bit’s car parked hastily in the driveway behind Darry’s truck.

Soda looks over to Steve and gives him a nod of thanks. He gets up and moves towards the back of the ambulance. “I’ll fill him in, kiddo. Take it easy,” he says. Ponyboy looks through his heavy lids at his older brother and grabs his wrist.

“Don’t leave me,” he pleads. Soda sighs sadly and touches Ponyboy’s shoulders gently. He knows how much he hates doctors.

“I’ll be right back, Pony. I promise.” The medics decide to take him off the morphine, satisfied that they’ve done the most they can without taking him to the hospital. Ponyboy watches as Darry furiously demands information from the two cops and Ryder. Spotting Soda, he abandons his efforts and walks the short distance over to him.

“What the hell happened? How did they let Parker get away with this?” Darry asks. He’s fuming.

“I don’t know, Darry. There were a lot of kids here, the bastard got away. But we can deal with him later.” Soda looks over his shoulder at Ponyboy, who now is being helped out the back of the ambulance.

“How is he? Honestly,” Darry says, alarmed.

Soda shakes his head. “Not good, man. I mean, yeah, he’s pretty banged up. But something else is up. He looks strange. I’m worried…” he says, trailing off in concern. Soda noticed something more than the quietness, more than the dangerous fire in his eyes. When Ponyboy begged him to stay with him, he saw something else in his eyes. He looked fractured. Scared and angry and broken all at the same time. He remembers the look when Ponyboy got hit at the bar last weekend, the same fiery anger. Soda’s worried how much more of this Ponyboy can take.

“We’ll deal with it. We’ll handle this. Just like we always do. We’ll be there for him. All of us – we can get through it just like we always do,” Darry says with confidence.

The cops inform Darry that they can’t press charges on Parker or admit Ponyboy to the hospital without causing trouble with the state. They also address the fact that Ponyboy was drunk when they found him, and that would just dig them in a deeper hole. He regretfully agrees with them, scrubbing a hand down his face.

Soda and Darry move over to where the paramedics are talking to Ponyboy. Darry wraps his arm protectively around his shoulders, careful not to jar his cracked ribs. They fill each of them in on how to handle his injuries for at least the two months, or until they heal properly. The black eye and concussion should heal within the week. They just have to make sure Ponyboy doesn’t sleep for extended periods at a time for the first few days. It’s the splintered ribs and busted knuckles that cause concern. Soda and Darry listen closely as the medics describe the correct way to wrap his ribcage. They’re to look out for infection in the broken knuckles, and they inform Ponyboy to keep wrapping them for another two weeks. Six for the ribs.

Two-Bit and Steve check in before they leave. Letting Darry and Soda know to call them if they need any help. But they’ll be over tomorrow regardless. Ponyboy mumbles a goodbye to them shakily, as he walks over to say goodbye to Ryder.

“Don’t worry, Ponyboy.  You got Parker pretty good. I’d be surprised if he dares to _look_ at you anymore,” Ryder says. He puts his hand gently on Ponyboy’s shoulder and sighs. “Just take it easy, buddy. Call me if you wanna talk or anything. I’ll hopefully see you in school next week.”

Ponyboy scratches the bandage on his head awkwardly. “Thanks a lot, Ryder. I mean, for not giving up on me, and for trying to kick him out. You stick around me no matter what; I wonder if you’ll ever learn your lesson,” he says with the attempt of a joke. But the straight edge in his tone makes it fall flat. Ryder watches as Soda guides him to Darry’s truck. He’s slightly jealous of the relationship the three of them have – he doesn’t know if his parents even care about him the way those boys care for each other. His sister definitely doesn’t. But his life isn’t as screwed up as theirs are. He could live a hundred years and not deserve that kind of love.

“How you holdin’ up, kiddo?” Darry finally asks as he pulls out of the driveway. Ponyboy raises his head from resting on Soda’s shoulder and shrugs.

“I’m okay for now. They drugged me up pretty good,” he says quietly. The fire is subsiding from his eyes, possibly because of the drugs, but that doesn’t stop the concern bubbling inside of Soda and Darry. They look at each other anxiously before Soda decides to say something.

“Alright look, Pony. I don’t know what Parker said. Or what he tried to make you believe. But whatever he said to get inside your head – about Johnny or Dal or mom or dad isn’t true. You know that.  And you know better than to let his lies get to you. I mean, for god’s sake, he’s practically a grown man beatin’ on a kid. He could get years in jail for this.”

Ponyboy’s now no longer tired, but aggravated. “I know, Soda, okay. I know he doesn’t matter. But do you know how I feel?” he shouts angrily. “None of you know how I feel about this! You didn’t see Johnny die! You didn’t see Dally bust out of that hospital. They didn’t deserve to die. Either of them,” Ponyboy adds, thinking of the violent way Dally died. Running straight into sure death, he died gallant – that’s what he has to remember. “They didn’t deserve to die,” he repeats, fumbling with the bandages around his knuckles, trying to control the tears welling in eyes, threatening to spill over.

Soda sighs in sympathy. Darry tightens his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turn an eerie pale color. It’s true. They don’t understand completely – but they lost friends too. They do understand the pain that’s eating at Ponyboy – just, maybe not as intense. But Ponyboy feels things so much stronger than any of them.

“I’m sorry, but you guys just don’t get it. I’m tired of this following me around everywhere I go. Of kids like Parker always around. Like I’ll never escape.”

That’s when Darry offers his opinion. “Then take control, Ponyboy. Take all your anger and grief and turn them into control. Control of your mind. If you convince yourself to get through this, then you can, you just have to try. I know it seems impossible but one day you will get past this for good.” He looks over to his youngest brother who seems to be oddly hanging onto his every word. “And as for bullies like Parker, from what Steve heard from Ryder, you handled that pretty well yourself. I don’t think many kids will try messin’ with you anymore,” he says, his mouth twitching into a small smile. Pride bursting through his voice in the last sentence.

“Yeah, man, at least you tore him a new one. He’s a huge kid, can’t imagine it was easy making a dent in his ape face. So good goin’, kiddo,” Soda says, winking and lightly nudging Ponyboy’s arm. Ponyboy lets out a small smile, more for his brothers’ sakes than his own. He feels a little better but only time will help him get through this. They make it home a few minutes later and Ponyboy just can’t wait to sleep. Even though he’s only allowed to sleep a few hours at a time, he just wants to be alone with his thoughts. It might not be the best idea right now – but he doesn’t care.

By the time they get out of the truck, Ponyboy practically falls over with exhaustion. The concussion is really taking a toll on him – and the pain from his fractured ribs is making standing increasingly more difficult. Darry helps him walk inside the house, and settles him on his bed. Soda agrees to take the first shift in waking Ponyboy up in two hours, so they settle in their bed and tuck in for a bit.

Getting him awake is no problem, but the drugs the medics gave him are making him have strange dreams. Soda sees it first – the confusion behind his expression when he actually has to remind Ponyboy that Johnny is dead. He practically bawls, but thinks it must be because of the drugs and concussion. When Darry wakes Ponyboy up next, he seems completely oblivious to whatever happened earlier, so the older brothers sigh in relief.

The last shift Soda and Darry agree on starts at three in the morning. They count on Ponyboy waking up early, like he always does, so they apprehensively decide to go to sleep for the rest of the night. Soda settles in next to Ponyboy, who has his injured right hand hanging off the bed, his other resting on his bandaged ribs. Soda smiles, noticing that his brother looks far more relaxed than he has all night. He also looks about five years younger. Hoping that the nightmares finally stopped, he falls asleep praying that tomorrow will be a good day.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

It is 6:03 A.M. Ponyboy Curtis is already at war with himself.

The harsh November wind of the new morning is banging on his bedroom window, as if the world is asking him if he’s strong enough to face the day. He pulls his comforter over his head and rolls over, burying his face into his pillow, trying to ignore it.

He winces as he remembers he has fractured ribs. The bandage slightly unwound over the night and he can see it spotted with blood. The concussion seems to be tamed but he’s left with a throbbing headache.

Listening to the howling wind, Ponyboy thinks back on what Darry told him last night. He wants to believe him but he doubts this feeling will ever stop – he sometimes wishes he could waste the rest of his life so he can start over without feeling guilty. About Johnny and Dally. Soda dropping out of school. Darry giving up on college. Even his parents a little bit. It’s all weighing him down – and he’s drowning. It starts like this every day. Today isn’t the only battle he has to face. Each different day sees Ponyboy Curtis tackle some battle thrown at him.

But the world will never stop banging on his window.

The side of him that wants to throw in the towel – surrender the war and count the bodies – finds new reasons every day to give up. The other side keeps fighting – knows things have to get better. And one day, the war will be over. He won’t have to ask himself if he’s ready to face the new day, he’ll wake up ready. One day, Ponyboy will realize just how much his life is worth. He’s actually happy to wake up this early – before Darry and Soda get up – so he can be alone with his thoughts for a while.

That’s what Ponyboy loves. The quiet moments in the morning when he can stop pretending.

He lies like that for ten more minutes before deciding to get up, the pain threatening to flood through his whole body. Quietly, he tries to wiggle out of the bed without waking Soda, but he fails. The soreness of his limbs makes him even more clumsy than usual and he accidentally hits Soda’s arm.

Soda notices the clock says it’s barely past six and leans forward. “Woah, kiddo, where ya goin’?” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Go back to sleep, Soda. I’m fine. Just gonna get some aspirin and take a shower. Can’t sleep anymore,” he says as he stumbles to his feet. He sways a little and then winces, his head threatening to split open.

Seeing the pain in Ponyboy’s eyes, Soda gets up and pulls a shirt on. He crosses to the other side of the bed and encourages his younger brother to sit on the edge. He says in a gentle voice, “Why don’t you let me get the aspirin and you can lie down ‘til you’re sure you can stand up straight. The last thing we need is you falling over in the shower. Why can’t you ever just take it easy, huh?” he says, shaking his head. Not angrily, but distressed. He lopes off to the bathroom and brings back four aspirin and a small glass of water.

“Don’t tell Darry I gave you this many, he’ll have my head. But I know you probably need ‘em.”

Ponyboy rubs his temple gingerly as Soda places the aspirin in his bad hand. “Thanks,” he says through his grimace. He gulps down the pills and looks down at the blood spotting his weakly bound ribs.

“Sit up straight a sec, let me wrap those up,” Soda says as he looks at his wounded brother. He gets the wrap from the bag of supplies the medics gave them last night and sets it on the floor next to where he’s kneeling. Carefully peeling the stiff wrap from Ponyboy’s caked blood, Soda wrinkles his nose in disgust. It smells a little weird and he prays it’s not because it’s infected. He gets up to get a washcloth from the closet outside of their bedroom and gets it damp with water from the bathroom. Darry can be heard walking around in his room, and he opens the door as Soda walks out of the bathroom.

“How is he?” Darry asks, sounding slightly afraid.

Soda looks him in the eyes. “He slept alright, I think. The worst of the concussion is over, now he’s just got a headache. His knuckles look okay for now but his ribs bled a little through the night. I’m going to clean him up now.”

“Alright, just make sure he goes easy. Help him walk if he needs it. I’ll make breakfast, hopefully he’ll eat…” Darry says in a quiet voice as he walks over to the kitchen.

Taking the damp washcloth with him, Soda makes his way back to his bedroom. Ponyboy’s slightly slumped to the side, but Soda is thankful when he realizes he was just resting his eyes. He opens them as his older brother kneels down in front of him.

Soda starts to wipe the dry blood from his brother’s ribs. He really is a sight. The first thing noticeable is his swollen black eye, mildly obstructing his sight. The head wound is only noticeable since Soda knows what to look for. It’s surprisingly not too swollen and the cut is now concealed by Ponyboy’s lightly greased hair. Guess the kid’s got a hard head. Luckily his knuckles didn’t bleed through the bandages overnight but Soda remembers what they look like – cracked and blackened in protest. The bruises surrounding his ribcage, like the ones on his right hand, are almost black. But there’s a small tear in his skin where the deepest color is, and that’s where the blood seems to be coming from.

Not trying to make Ponyboy’s mood any worse, he stops analyzing the situation. If he thinks too hard about how banged up his little brother is, he’ll just get angry again. And he can’t afford to blow up right now. He looks up at Ponyboy. “Darry’s makin’ breakfast, what do you feel like?”

Ponyboy shrugs. He can tell that Soda is trying to start a conversation with him so that he’ll be distracted from the pain. He decides to take the bait; maybe it will help get his mind off of things.

“French toast. And chocolate milk. And chocolate cake,” Ponyboy says with a smile. Or what he hopes is a smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ya sure you don’t want the French toast to be chocolate?” Soda says with a laugh. The Curtis family will never grow out of their obsession with anything chocolate.

“Surprise me.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Once Soda finishes wrapping Ponyboy’s ribs, the aspirin have started to work and his headache has shrunken to a dull ache. He finds it easier to keep his balance, but his fractured ribs make it difficult to walk. Soda carefully helps him into the kitchen and settles him in the chair while Darry sets breakfast on the table. He notices the French toast isn’t chocolate but that doesn’t stop them from tasting good.

They sit at the kitchen table, silently eating their breakfast, until Soda has to get changed for his shift at the DX. He argues with Darry about it for a few minutes, set out on skipping work to watch Ponyboy, but that doesn’t last long because Darry reminds him he’ll be home all day. Steve comes by to pick him Soda up and they leave.

Darry shifts his legs awkwardly while he and Ponyboy struggle to find something to talk about. He wants to bring up Parker, to remind him how useless and unimportant he is, but he knows Ponyboy is fragile right now. Both emotionally and physically. Instead, he gets up slowly and clears the dirty dishes from the kitchen table. As he’s loading his coffee mug into the sink, Ponyboy clears his throat hesitantly.

“So, Darry. Am I allowed to go back to campus on Monday? I can walk alright if I just go slowly, and I really hate missing class.”

Leaving the rest of the dishes in the sink, Darry walks back over to the table and sits down. “I don’t know, Ponyboy,” he starts. “You can barely stand up on your own. Do you really think that’s the best idea?”

Ponyboy nods. “Yeah, I do. If I’m stuck here all I’m gonna do is think too much and be miserable,” he says with a slight frown. “Please, Darry. I need to go back. To at least pretend everything is normal again.”

Darry sighs deeply. “Well, alright then. But I’m gonna give Ryder a call and make sure he helps you with your books, you don’t need to be luggin’ those around with your ribs like that.”

“That’s not really necessary –” Ponyboy stops, noticing the stern look his older brother is giving him. Deciding not to fight this, he rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

Nodding, Darry pushes out of his chair and goes back to cleaning the dishes. He stands there for five minutes, when he notices that he hasn’t heard Ponyboy get up to leave. Darry turns around and notices a quizzical look on his younger brother’s face. He can practically see the wheels turning in his mind.

Ponyboy notices Darry staring at him and raises his head to look at him.

“What if nobody respects me anymore? I doubt I even made a dent in him, he’s huge. Everybody will take one look at me and treat me like I’m a joke…” he says in quiet voice.

Darry sits down tentatively. “I doubt it, Ryder said you pummeled him,” he says. “But if that is the case, then you take it back. Take back the respect you earned. You won that race. You didn’t steal the spot from him – you earned it. Nobody should ever toss you around like you’re trash.”

Shaking his head in frustration, Ponyboy says, “Yeah, well, easier said than done. Just ‘cause I want respect doesn’t mean I’m gonna get it.”

“Nah, that ain’t true. You can take anything if you want it enough.”

Ponyboy brushes him off and goes to do some homework in his room. He’s probably right – but he doesn’t want to think about it right now. Finals are in two weeks and he can’t afford to fall behind in his studies. He’s like that for a few hours until he hears Two-Bit come over. Heading out to greet his friend, Ponyboy shakily makes his way over to the living room. He grimaces slightly and makes a B line for the bathroom to grab some aspirin. Darry hears this and looks at him with concern as Ponyboy enters the living room.

“If it ain’t the mighty Hercules himself. You look like shit,” Two-Bit laughs. Usually, Ponyboy would wrestle him to the ground and argue with him, but that’s out of the question for a while. Instead, he decides to roll his eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, nice to see you too, Two-Bit. Ya came over here just to make fun of me?”

Two-Bit sighs and grows a little more serious. “Aw, I’m just messing. How ya doin’?”

Ponyboy shrugs. “As good as I can be, I guess. Not to worry, I’ll bounce back in no time and make you pay for your wise-crackin’,” he jokes.

Both Two-Bit and Darry laugh at this. Darry helps his brother sit on the couch and smiles. “Yeah, well I’d be happy if you could walk right,” he says. Ponyboy rolls his eyes again.

“You good enough to head back to classes on Monday?” Two-Bit asks.

“I gotta,” Ponyboy says. “If I miss any class I’m almost guaranteed to fail my finals.”

Two-Bit laughs, nudging his friend lightly on the arm. “Shoot, you probably never failed a thing in your life. Ain’t gotta worry about finals.”

“Nah, just gotta worry about everybody picking on me again, right?” Ponyboy says bitterly. He lightly traces the swelling around his black eye and receives a frown from Darry in response.

“Your track friends will look out for you. Cheer up; they’ll be treatin’ ya like a hero!” Two-Bit says, trying to lighten the somber mood. Ponyboy walks away back to his room and grumbles to himself. If he’s learned anything, it’s that he will never be a hero.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The rest of Saturday drags on. Ponyboy manages to trip on the side of the coffee table, to nobody’s surprise, and busts open his right hand again when he tries to steady himself. Darry swears in frustration and leads Ponyboy into their bathroom to clean him up.

“Sorry,” Ponyboy laughs through a grimace of pain. “Guess I can’t seem to do much of anything right recently.”

Darry pulls his frown into one of his rare, crooked grins, instantly transforming into the spitting image of their father. “Recently?” he says.

After he salvages as many of the remaining stitches holding his knuckles together, Darry wraps Ponyboy’s hand even tighter than before. Although he’s fairly certain that his clumsiness is only bound to get worse since he can’t walk very well, that being the reason he knocked into the coffee table in the first place. Darry hesitantly gives Ponyboy a few aspirin and helps him walk to his room so he can continue studying.

He spends the rest of the day holed up in his room until Soda gets home from work. They eat dinner and Ponyboy actually convinces them to go see a movie with him. He knows he wouldn’t be allowed to go alone and he desperately explains his need to get out of the house. They get there just as the movie starts. Soda keeps flirting with the girl sitting in front of them, and Darry falls asleep. Ponyboy just shakes his head. He shouldn’t have expected any different. By the time they get home at night, Ponyboy’s ribs are shouting in protest. He falls asleep early and mumbles a goodnight to his older brothers.

Sunday passes with growing apprehension. It’s getting closer to Ponyboy going back to classes and Soda and Darry don’t seem too sure that he’s up for it yet. But he manages to convince Soda, who in turn convinces Darry, and they decide to drop the matter. They go in for their afternoon shifts at work, and Two-Bit comes over to hang out with Ponyboy.

He knows he’s being babysat, but he doesn’t seem to care much. After watching TV for a while, Ponyboy explains his need to study and disappears into his room. Three hours later, Soda comes back from work, smiling when he finds Ponyboy asleep at his desk. He’s slouched down in an awkward position which can’t be very good for his ribs. Carefully walking around the explosion of dirty clothes on the floor, Soda approaches his younger brother. He grabs his shoulder in a firm grip and squeezes faintly.

“Kiddo, wake up,” he says softly. “Why don’t you go lie down on the bed? You’ll screw up your ribs sittin’ like that.”

Ponyboy grumbles in protest but sits back up. He pulls his history worksheet from where it’s stuck to his cheek and groans. Soda chuckles.

“I hate history,” Ponyboy says with a frown. “I’m never gonna use this stuff in real life. I thought college meant I could actually take the classes I wanted.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t worry too much. You’re only in your first semester. Give it some time,” Soda says as he walks out to take a shower, picking up a towel from the floor on his way out.

Several minutes later, Soda comes back into their bedroom in his towel and notices Ponyboy hasn’t moved. Instead he’s tapping his pencil on the desk, staring straight through his history book.

“Why don’t you take a break if you can’t concentrate?” Soda asks.

Turning around in his chair, Ponyboy sighs and says, “It ain’t that, Soda. It’s just…do you think I’ll always be this screwed up? Do you think I will ever forget about this?” He doesn’t even need to explain what he’s talking about – Soda gets it. When he saw Ponyboy in that ambulance the night of the party he thought only of the way they found out about their parents, and Johnny, and Dallas – too late. He’s been thinking of them constantly ever since.

“You’re not screwed up, you’re normal. I’d be worried if you didn’t think about them all the time; it’s not something you can just forget about. But that’s not saying you won’t be able to deal with it one day. You might not be able to forget but you will get past it,” Soda says. He was never meant to be a brainiac but he’ll always have a strange sense of wisdom in his youth.

Ponyboy slowly looks up to his older brother. “You really think that?”

“I do, Ponyboy,” Soda says. “I believe in you.”

And sometimes that’s all someone needs to hear. Especially Ponyboy.

He’ll believe in anything. He believes in the bruise colored skies of the winter sunset. He believes in the country, and education, and running. He believes in books, and western films, and loyalty. He believes in the fact that every person, no matter how big or tough they are, should have a friend and that if they don’t – there’s no way they’ll make it out alive. Sometimes, he believes there is good in the world.

And it’s quite tragic that Ponyboy believes in all of these things. Because he fails to believe in himself.

But he starts to think about what Darry said yesterday. He earned his spot in that race. And he won. He didn’t ask for the fight – Parker is just a ticking time bomb of anger and poor judgment. Ponyboy deserves respect and he will get it. He decides to accept what Soda has said. He can handle this – he has to. He’ll believe what his brothers are telling him is the truth. He’ll make it stone number one and build on it until he can believe in himself.

“Thanks, Sodapop,” is all he says. But he doesn’t need to say anything else. Soda can see it. The courage surging in his veins, the power of will in his brother’s eyes once again. They’re burning – not with fiery anger – but with purpose. And with that, Soda knows he’ll be alright.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Darry notices the difference in Ponyboy immediately and decides he’ll be more than ready to handle going back to classes. But he still calls Ryder in the morning, before Steve picks Ponyboy up for their first classes, and tells him to keep an eye out for him. Ryder obviously agreed, he was planning on it anyways.

As Steve and Ponyboy walk the halls towards Ponyboy’s first class, Steve hands over Ponyboy’s bookbag and looks at him strangely. “See ya, kid,” he says hesitantly. Ponyboy sighs and walks ahead without responding. Steve walks after him and grabs his shoulder from behind. “You’ll be alright,” he says with an uncomfortable smile. Ponyboy smiles crookedly.

Ryder meets him after his first class, and they walk together to their next one. An hour later, the pair head of for their last class of the day: English. This is when they would be seeing Parker. Ponyboy takes a deep breath and walks inside. They spot Parker towards the left side of the class, looking almost as bad as Ponyboy, and take seats towards the back right of the classroom.

Class flies by without any distractions and Ponyboy shakily makes his way out of class. He says goodbye to Ryder, saying that Soda should be waiting for him, and makes his way out to the parking lot.

But Soda hasn’t gotten there yet, so Ponyboy lowers himself to the curb and waits. He takes his bookbag off and looks around for his brother. Who he finds, though, is Parker. Walking towards him. Ponyboy remembers all the things his brothers told him. It’s now or never, he decides. He has to deal with this.

Standing up from the curb, Ponyboy walks toward him.

“Hey, runt. Just wanted to see if you learned your lesson,” Parker says with a smirk.

Ponyboy grabs Parker by the scruff of his t-shirt and forcefully pushes him against the dumpster to their left. He swiftly closes the remaining space between them and looks directly in his eyes, unblinking. Never averting his eyes, he says with such composure, “Try to fight me again and I’ll blind you.” And maybe it’s because Parker can see the fresh confidence in his eyes, or the way he carries himself more proudly, or the fact that Parker got a lot more beat up than he’s letting on, or maybe it’s because of the overly muscled older brother who drove past Parker’s house late Friday night with a threatening message – maybe Ponyboy will never know – but he backs off.

Soda approaches the scene, a dangerous expression spreading across his face. He saw the whole thing. He’s close enough for Ponyboy to notice him, but he starts walking after Parker. Picking up his bookbag from the curb, he calls after brother. “Leave it, Soda!”

He doesn’t try running after him, because he knows his ribs won’t let him get that far. But Soda stops in his tracks and turns around to look at his brother. By that time, Ponyboy has made it far enough for Soda to hear him better.

“You sure?” Soda asks uncertainly.

Ponyboy nods his head stiffly and sighs. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s over.”

Soda sighs in relief and puts his arms around Ponyboy. He takes his bookbag from him and they silently make their way over to Darry’s truck.

That night at dinner, Ponyboy explains that Parker shouldn’t be causing much trouble anymore. Darry doesn’t ask for details – but he knows his youngest brother has done whatever was necessary. Slowly but surely, he will be okay again.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

As he changes the books in his bag for his next day of classes, Ponyboy hesitates when he notices his journal hiding under forgotten books and papers. He handles the notebook with uncertainty – the last time he wrote in it was before the fight. There either wasn’t enough time or enough motivation for him to keep up with it. But with his new attitude, and everything that has happened recently, he decides to write in it again.

Tapping his pencil in thought, he thinks about how exactly to begin. If he should start with the fight, or Parker, or Johnny, or high school.

He might be moving on, but he will never forget. And maybe one day Ponyboy will be able to share his journal. Share his story.

_I read somewhere that you die twice. Once when you stop breathing, and the other time when somebody says your name for the last time. I won’t let you die twice, Johnny; you’re always gold to me. I’ll never stop saying your name._

_I guess in the end – we’re all dead. It took me a while to realize, but I get it now – it’s how you choose to live that makes you stand out from the rest._


End file.
